


Rushing Back

by floorcoaster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, No Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 80,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floorcoaster/pseuds/floorcoaster
Summary: Draco Malfoy is thirty, surviving, and very much not thriving. He's near the utter end of himself when he experiences the worst of all possible bad days--a double betrayal that rocks him to his core. Unmoored, untethered, he winds up in a strange place, where he begins an adventure through time that will change the course of his life.A time travel fic with a twist on the movie "13 Going on 30."
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 485
Kudos: 772
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest





	1. Days Slip Away

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:** 13 Going on 30 (2004) - claimed by floorcoaster
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione for everything - beta work, graphics, general cheerleading and support. Thanks to inadaze22 for brainstorming, support, and inspiration for the story title. Title comes from a song of the same name by Flume.
> 
>   
> 

He felt it before anything. A sharp, painful throb, coincident with his heartbeat, reverberated through his skull making him wish he was unconscious—or better yet, dead. When Draco opened his eyes, he let out a string of curses. His room was Charmed to shut out all light, yet somehow, a tiny sliver was peeking around one of his windows, and the thin line of sunshine seemed to stab straight into his brain.

He shut his eyes again and cast about desperately for a Sober-Up potion. He typically kept a ready supply in his nightstand drawer and, to his relief, found that he hadn’t yet depleted it. He’d need to stock up soon, however, and he tried to make a mental note to stop at the Apothecary to replenish a few ingredients.

Uncorking the vial, he tossed the potion back, wincing as the horrible-tasting stuff slid down his throat. Within five minutes, he felt better, though he knew that he’d had too much to drink the night before to be cured with a single dose. But at least it was manageable now. 

With a heavy sigh, Draco sat up, blinking sleepily and glancing around his room. It was the same room he’d grown up in, and the one to which he’d retreated when he and Astoria gave up any pretense of marital felicity some seven years before. She slept across the Manor in her own suite of rooms, and what she did there, he didn’t care to know. All he knew was that she hadn’t broken the Fidelity Clause in their marriage arrangement. The line of infidelity was well-stated and explained in the marriage contract, and anything up to that line was not considered cheating. He wouldn’t have cared if she had, but he knew that she had wanted the Marriage Bonus of ten thousand Galleons if she was faithful for ten years. They’d passed that mark in February, just two months prior, and in a way, she was free to do whatever she wished.

He snorted. What utter shite. 

His whole _life_ was utter shite. 

His father, banished from England, had taken his mother and moved to France, leaving Draco in charge of the company at home. He’d been slowly dying inside every day since, doomed to a miserable existence, a job he hated, a loveless marriage, and almost nothing worth getting out of bed for.

As if his body was used to this train of thought, Draco’s gaze now fell on the wall opposite his bed. It was covered nearly floor to ceiling with framed photos of the one good thing in his life: Scorpius. He grinned automatically, his eyes coming to rest on the most recent addition, a photo of he and Scorpius fishing only the month before. He had every intention of covering every square inch of the walls with pictures of his son. Scorpius was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Draco had no intention of missing a single moment of his life.

Briefly, he wondered where his son was, but then he remembered that his mother had come for a visit—a month ago. She’d taken to helping Scorpius get ready for school in the morning, and like every morning since her arrival, Draco was very grateful for her presence. Astoria had long ago stopped being a mother to Scorpius in every way except the title. Before Narcissa’s visit, Scorpius had developed the habit of waking Draco up and talking nonstop until he stepped through the Floo to his school. While Draco treasured many of those moments with only Scorpius, on mornings like this one, he appreciated the solitude. 

However, it couldn’t last all day, and he had a few important things to take care of. First and foremost, it was Astoria’s birthday. He couldn’t have cared less, but Scorpius, who loved his mother despite her distance, had been working on a plan to do something special for her for a week. Draco had forgotten a vital piece of the surprise—a birthday card Scorpius had spent hours creating—at his office the day before, and needed to stop in to retrieve it. There was also an important board meeting that afternoon, so he could go a bit early and prepare for that. Scorpius was staying home from school for the day to complete a few last minute tasks necessary for his surprise; they’d cleared it with his teachers beforehand. 

Draco rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. He was less than two months from turning thirty-one, and if he thought about it too much, he’d fall into a well of despair—again. Twice over the last seven years, he’d needed help from his friends to get out of terrible mental states. He’d never considered the most drastic option, but he’d spent months wallowing in the muck of the mess that was his life. 

He had only himself to blame. Well, his parents and the bloody awful marriage contract they’d concocted with Astoria’s parents, too. They’d been so desperate to marry him off to someone of ‘better standing’ in the wizarding world that the engagement had been hurried and the wedding slapped together before anyone had time to breathe or reconsider. He’d gone along with it because he had never expected anything else. His parents had grown to love each other, so he’d assumed it would be the same with him and Astoria. 

There was only one other incident in his life where he’d been more wrong, the evidence of which was forever burned into his skin. 

Draco forced himself to get up and ready for the day. Another Sober-Up potion was in order, then he showered and dressed before heading down to the dining room. Scorpius was at the table, his mostly eaten bowl of oatmeal beside him. He was intently focused on a piece of parchment, upon which he was applying liberal use of ink.

“Morning, Buddy.” Draco ruffled his son’s hair as he passed him on the way to the side table. 

Scorpius barely noticed him as he continued with his writing.

Narcissa breezed into the room as Draco perused the offering on the buffet. “Morning, Darling.” She resumed her seat beside Scorpius, the newspaper already open and her croissant half-eaten. “I was just speaking with the cook about dinner tonight.”

“Already taken care of,” Draco muttered under his breath as he took a sip of coffee. 

Narcissa didn’t even look at him. “What’s that?” 

“Morning, Mother.” He quickly filled his plate and sat on the other side of his son. “What are you drawing?”

Scorpius didn’t answer right away; he was lost in a world of his own making, the quill flying over the page. Draco glanced at it and saw that the page contained mainly a diagram, with a few notes scattered around it. 

Draco looked at his mother, who smiled fondly. “He’s so like you were at this age.”

“Except that he’s imagining forts and castles in the woods outside. I was focused on what I was going to try and wheedle out of you and father.” He gave her a pointed look.

Narcissa tutted and returned to the paper.

Finally, Scorpius set down his quill and sat back to admire his work. “Dad, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Yeah? All right, sure. Your drawing?” Draco took another sip of tea.

His son blinked at him, then shook his head. “No. This is for something else. For school.” Scorpius’s gray eyes, shining with excitement, looked so much like Draco’s once had. “I found this really amazing spot on the way to the creek yesterday. I think it would be perfect for a tree fort. Miss Granger showed us these things called pulleys. You use ropes and buckets and things, and you can lift heavy things from the ground all the way up to the fort! It’s going to be great. I can haul my rock collection up!”

It took every ounce of parenting skills Draco possessed not to point out that they had magic, which could easily help move the rocks and anything else Scorpius might want moved. But the light in his son’s eyes, the joy, the anticipation, were too much, and Draco merely smiled. 

“I can’t wait to see it.” His son couldn’t use magic, so really, there was no harm in him setting up some system to aid in the rearranging of his treasures. “What did you call them? Pulleys?”

Scorpius nodded excitedly, then pulled out a blank piece of parchment. “I’ll show you.” He quickly sketched out a picture of what he wanted to do. Draco smiled as he watched the drawing of a seven-year-old emerge on the paper showing a tree, a flat platform some ten feet up, and some circles and lines to represent the mechanism. “See, I’m up here.” Scorpius pointed to the platform. “And I pull the rope like this.” He pointed to one side of the paper. “The rope slides over this pulley here.” He indicated to a large circular object at the edge of the platform. “And when I pull, it raises the bucket, here. It’s supposed to make it easier than trying to pull with only a rope. Miss Granger told us all about it yesterday.”

“Did she?” Draco made as though to examine the drawing closer. “Well, I look forward to hearing more about it.”

“So you’ll help me, Dada?” Scorpius looked at him with such eager anticipation that Draco couldn’t possibly say no. 

“I’d love to, Son. I’m not sure where to find these pulley things, though.” Perhaps he’d have to ask Miss Granger about them. The thought of speaking to Hermione, one of the teachers at his son’s school, didn’t fill him with dread as it had in the beginning; in fact, it had quite the opposite effect, which was alarming. This had been happening with increasing frequency over the last year or so, though he refused to pay attention to the way his heart skipped when he saw her, or the way his palms went sweaty when he was forced to speak to her. So, really, it was dread after all, but for a very different reason. 

Scorpius rolled up his drawing, held it out, and Draco sealed it without a word. It was an automatic gesture, one that had happened between them dozens of times. “I want to show you the spot this morning. Can I, Dada? Please? After breakfast?”

Narcissa cleared her throat. “Remember it’s your mother’s birthday, Scorpius.”

Draco met his son’s anxious gaze. “We’ve got time for a little walk, Mother. It’s something of a tradition. Scorpius has a plan for Astoria, but it’s for tonight at dinner. I’ve got the entire morning off, and I intend to spend it with my son.”

Scorpius beamed, then quickly hopped off his chair. “Great. I’ll go get my things.” He ran from the room without waiting for a reply.

“What’s all this about pulleys?” Narcissa arched an eyebrow. “Sounds Muggle to me.”

Draco bit back a retort that might have bordered on rude. “Mother, you know the school he attends teaches the students about the Muggle world.” 

Narcissa sighed. “Yes, though I don’t see why you insist on putting him there. You got on just fine without learning about… about pulleys and ropes and such contraptions.”

“I hardly think we should hold my childhood up as some paragon of excellent rearing.” He gave her a pointed look. “We both know you and Father raised me to be a prejudiced little shit.”

“Draco!” Narcissa affected a shocked expression. “Such language.”

“You care more about the words I say than the substance of what I said.” Draco shook his head. He’d had this conversation with his mother more times than he liked to consider. “Astoria and I believe it’s in his best interest to be exposed to the Muggle world. It will help him to avoid making the same mistakes this family has been making for generations.”

Narcissa tutted. “Astoria. Where is she, anyway?”

Draco shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t much care.”

“That’s your wife you’re speaking of, you know.”

Draco stood and took one last bite of his croissant. “In name only, mother. We’ll see you soon.” He waved goodbye and strode from the dining room, and as he made his way through the large house, Scorpius came thundering down the grand staircase. Draco nearly laughed at seeing his son. 

Scorpius had put on a backpack, stuffed to bursting with who knew what. In one hand he had a bucket, and in the other, a long length of rope. “Ready, Dada?”

“Quite ready. Lead the way.” 

Without a word, Scorpius handed him the bucket and slid his free hand into Draco’s. There was something infinitely precious about the feel of his son’s hand in his, the simple act of a child who loved and trusted without reserve. He never failed to be amazed by it. 

Once they were outside, Scorpius started to describe, in detail, the place where they were headed. Draco let him talk for about ten minutes before he had to interrupt. 

“Score, stop for just a moment.”

They both stopped walking and Draco turned to face his son. “I left the card you made your mum at my office. You worked on it yesterday when you joined me after school and we both forgot it. I’m going to pick it up this afternoon when I go into the office for my meeting.”

Scorpius nodded once. “All right, Dada. Just don’t forget.”

“I won’t. And I’ll be home in time for dinner. Is your Grand’Mere helping you with your mother’s treat?”

“Yes. Miss Granger said it was fun to bake biscuits, and Grand’Mere promised she wouldn’t take over.” Scorpius pointed to a spot in front of them. They were halfway through the cleared portion of the estate, headed toward the woods. “We go in right there.”

“Lead the way.” Draco grinned as Scorpius resumed his detailed description of his plans for the tree fort—which had yet to be built, though Draco had no intention of denying his son this small pleasure. He’d have the fort set up in no time, and then he’d only have to procure whatever items were required for the pulley business. He’d probably need to ask Miss Granger where he should look for pulleys and… whatever else he’d need. 

They walked a good five minutes into the woods before Scorpius paused, glancing to either side with an adorably thoughtful expression. After a moment, he pointed to their right. “See that big tree with the three trunks that split off from one near the ground? That’s the tree.” Without waiting for a response, he set off for the tree.

Draco chuckled and followed behind, wishing he had remembered to change out of his dragon-hide shoes before their traipse through the woods. He’d known they’d be visiting the creek but thought these shoes would be adequate. It turned out they were rubbing his ankles, so he cast a quick Cushioning Charm to minimize the damage. Scorpius started talking as soon as he joined him, showing Draco exactly where every board would go, every screw.

“I want it built the Muggle way. With beams and supports and a drill.” He looked up at his father. “You can do all of that, right?”

Draco looked up into the tree. It was massive; the three trunks were easily as big around as a Quaffle. He was sure it was sturdy enough, but he didn’t know anything about building something the Muggle way. “Tell you what, let’s talk to Miss Granger and find out exactly what’s involved.”

Scorpius nodded. “We can talk to her tomorrow.”

“That sounds fine, Son.” Draco paused. “Or I could put something up right now.”

Scorpius scrunched up his nose. “Thanks, Dada. But I’d rather wait and speak with Miss Granger. But there’s something else I want to show you. Come on!” He grabbed Draco’s hand and started pulling him through the woods. 

Draco could only laugh and allow himself to be led farther in. Another five minutes brought them to the spot by the creek they frequented. It had a wide area with rocks, a deeper area for swimming, and a cleared beach on the bank that was perfect for resting. Scorpius ran to the edge and pulled off his socks and shoes, then splashed straight into the water. The pure delight and determination on his face made Draco’s heart swell. 

They came to the creek every year on Astoria’s birthday, so this part of the routine was easy. He Conjured a blanket and spread it on the ground, just far enough from the water’s edge to stay dry. Then he sat down and watched his son, who spent a few minutes splashing before he started building a dam of rocks. Draco remained on the blanket, and after a little while longer, Transfigured a pillow out of a rock and laid down. He rested his hands on his chest and closed his eyes, enjoying the sounds of the creek and the rocks Scorpius was moving around clunking together. 

“Dad?”

He might have dozed off. “Yes, son?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Draco chuckled. “Of course.”

“What was your favorite year in school?”

The question was so surprising that Draco turned to look at his son. Scorpius was very focused on one section of his dam, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Why do you ask?”

“Miss Granger said her favorite year was her fourth, so I wondered about you, since you went to school with her. She’s so wonderful. I can’t imagine liking any school year more than this one because she’s one of my teachers. My _favorite_ teacher.”

Draco looked back up at the trees overhead. “Did she say why that was her favorite year?”

“It was lots of fun, she said.” Scorpius paused while he placed a particularly difficult rock. “She got a little sad, though. She said the end of the year was upsetting and stopped talking about it. But before that, it was her favorite.”

Draco knew that at the end of fourth year, the Dark Lord returned and killed Cedric Diggory, which was undoubtedly the sad thing she’d remembered. Until then, however, it would have been all about the Triwizard Tournament for her, and she’d been courted by Krum, which Draco hadn’t forgotten. 

But for Draco, that year had been the start of increased tensions at home, though he hadn't understood what was happening until much later. His father had started acting strangely over the summer, short with his family and increasingly anxious. That growing tension had been obvious throughout the year, even though Draco hadn’t seen his parents at all. He’d picked it up through things his mother said—and things she didn’t. 

“Third year,” he said finally. “It was the last year I was truly carefree in school. I had fun with my friends, played Quidditch, and was generally happy.” 

He subconsciously rubbed his forearm where the Dark Mark still marred his skin. 

“Did you have fun in fourth year? I know you weren’t friends with Miss Granger, but you had your own friends, right?”

“Yes, I definitely had fun that year. There was a ball on Christmas Day, and—”

“Did you go with Mummy?” Scorpius’s eyes were bright.

Draco chuckled. “No, I didn’t know your mother then.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Scorpius and they were quiet again for a while longer.

****

**ooo**

After spending hours together by the creek, Scorpius making dams with rocks and watching the ways the water acted when he put various things in its path, they ate a satisfying lunch back at the Manor. Then Draco read to his son for nearly an hour before leaving him in his mother’s capable hands so he could shower and change for going to the office.

Draco was in a very good mood when he arrived. He’d dressed in his favorite suit—a light gray ensemble paired with a crisp white shirt and black tie. He’d even taken a bit of care with his hair, though he didn’t know why. To the casual observer, it might appear as though he’d dressed up for his wife’s birthday. But Draco knew the only reason she was joining them for dinner was because of Scorpius. 

He carried his suit jacket separately; he wouldn’t need it until later that afternoon, and he didn’t want anything to happen to it. When the lift dinged, he hopped off and smiled at Mildred, the ancient witch who greeted people and directed them throughout the Malfoy Industries various offices and floors. 

“Afternoon,” he said brightly, grabbing the pile of mail off her desk that was intended for him. 

Mildred scrambled up as he breezed past, hurrying to follow him. “Oh, Mr. Malfoy, wait just a moment.”

He held up a finger. “I’m not officially here yet, Mildred. I merely forgot something for my son. I’ll grab it, then sit in my office reviewing the quarterly numbers before this afternoon.”

As he neared his office door, Mildred became more insistent. “Please, Mr. Malfoy, I wish you would wait and—”

But Draco’s thoughts were elsewhere; he disregarded her pleading and opened the door, his focus on sifting through the pieces of mail in his hands. He’d taken two steps into his office when a sound distracted him, and he looked up to see his wife bent over his desk, her skirt hiked up, and Theodore Nott slamming into her with his trousers around his ankles. One hand was fisted in her hair, and as he yanked her head back, she let out a keening wail, her eyes fluttering as Theo emptied himself.

Draco could barely hear over a roaring sound in his ears, but when Theo released Astoria’s hair, she fell limp onto the desk. He felt completely numb and couldn’t produce a single, coherent thought. He cleared his throat, and both Astoria and Theo looked up at him. Astoria’s eyes widened and she hurriedly stood, adjusting her clothing. 

“Draco!” she cried, her cheeks burning.

Theo met Draco’s gaze with a defiant one of his own as he tucked himself away and righted his trousers. 

Somehow, Draco’s body moved toward his desk without him consciously deciding to. “Don’t mind me. I left something in one of my drawers that I need to get for Scorpius.” Theo didn’t move, despite the fact that he was behind Draco’s desk. Astoria’s mouth kept opening and closing without any sound coming out. 

Draco reached for the middle drawer on the right side, pulled out a bright pink envelope, then shut the drawer. He headed for the door, his ears still ringing. Halfway there, he pivoted to address Astoria, careful not to meet her eyes. “Don’t forget you’re expected for dinner tonight. Your son has a surprise for you.” Then he looked at Theo, who was still staring at him as though daring him to say something, challenge him—anything. But Draco could only shake his head. “No need to follow me out.”

Mildred was by the door, and she followed him after he exited through it. 

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m so—”

“You knew they were in there?” he asked quietly.

“Well, I did. Yes, Sir, but I had no idea what they were doing!” She wrung her hands. “What do you need me to do, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco gave her the best smile he could manage. “I’d like for you to do nothing, Mildred. Just… carry on. I’ll take care of this… this situation… later.”

“Of course, Mr. Malfoy. If you say so, Sir.” 

“I do.” He nodded once. “I think I’ll just step out until the board meeting.”

Mildred gave him a half-smile, standing behind her desk as though she had no idea what to do with herself. 

Draco boarded the lift once more, his suit jacket in hand and completely forgotten. He didn’t know what to do with himself either; everything felt numb. It was as though his brain was stuck, frozen in the moment when he registered what his eyes were telling him. Everything shut down, and he could only move on auto-pilot. 

When the lift dinged, announcing his arrival in the lobby of the building, he stepped off in a daze.

“Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy.”

He blinked, his brain finally kicking into gear as his eyes focused on Samuel G. Pennyfeather standing before him. “What?”

Pennyfeather motioned behind Draco. “You’re, well, blocking the way, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco spun around to see what he was blocking only to find himself just outside the door of the lift. The doors were attempting to shut but his presence made that impossible. He turned back and saw that there was a small crowd of people around Pennyfeather, muttering to each other and giving him strange looks. 

He snapped into action. “My apologies. My mind is quite elsewhere at the moment. Forgive me.” He then stepped aside to allow the group to board the lift. Ignoring the whispers that followed, he went down a corridor and stopped, leaning against the wall. His arms gave out and he dropped the carefully pressed suit jacket, as well as the card he’d collected for Scorpius. Then he slid down the wall, his legs sliding out in front of him. After a moment, he drew his knees up and rested his arms on them.

What in the blazes had just happened?

He’d walked in on Theodore Nott—an important shareholder in Malfoy Industries and one of his best friends—shagging his wife, who was bent over his desk as though they did it all the time. They hadn’t, of course; the intricate and complex Fidelity Charms were infallible, but there was no telling how long they’d been doing… _other_ things. 

Out of the two of them, he was probably more shocked by Theo. Draco had trusted him implicitly. They’d had similar upbringings, though Theo’s father hadn’t gotten quite as involved with the Dark Lord as Draco’s had. As a result, Theo’s father, though bearing the Mark, hadn’t failed an important assignment at the Ministry of Magic, hadn’t been sent to Azkaban and then forced to watch as his son was given an impossible task designed to destroy his whole family. 

After the war, they’d formed a fast, solid friendship—or so Draco had thought. 

And maybe it was still like that. Perhaps Theo had simply fallen in love with Astoria, and they’d waited until she’d secured her ten-year bonus before crossing the final line. 

But Theo’s expression toward Draco had been… odd. He didn’t appear at all contrite or ashamed or even surprised that Draco had caught them in the act. It also struck him as bizarre that they’d been in _his_ office, using _his_ desk for their tryst. It felt personal, which he couldn’t understand. 

As for Astoria, he felt only emptiness. There was no grief, no sadness, certainly no heartache. He had never loved her, though his affections for her had been warm once, right after the birth of Scorpius. After a few months, he’d realized that what he’d been feeling was only extreme gratitude toward her for giving him the most precious gift imaginable. 

His relationship—or lack thereof—with Astoria was one of the reasons he’d spent the last five years feeling as though his life was a complete failure, and wondering if he would spend the rest of his days dreading every sunrise. 

Scorpius was the only thing that kept him going, and he was the best thing in Draco’s world. 

Now that he’d found Astoria cheating, he wasn’t sure what to do. Divorce wasn’t unheard of in the wizarding world, but it was extremely frowned upon in the upper echelons of pureblood society. Scorpius loved his mother, but he’d never had parents who genuinely liked each other, much less loved each other. As sad as it was, Draco didn’t think Scorpius would be too affected—at first, anyway. If he and Astoria divorced, Scorpius’s life wouldn’t be dramatically altered. Astoria would simply cease to call the Manor her home; she would probably still see Scorpius almost as much as she currently did. It would only be later, when Scorpius saw his mother or father with someone else and truly in love, that he might wonder about his parents’ relationship.

But Draco would never lie to his son, and he deeply regretted not providing a truly loving home for him. For as many faults as they had, Draco’s parents had always loved each other; he had never doubted that. And they’d always put family before anything, though their understanding of that idea had been skewed at times. 

Scorpius was secure in his father’s love, and Draco felt sure that he knew his mother loved him as well. Draco and Astoria had always been there for him, side by side when need be, presenting a united front. In reality, however, they could have been very good friends for all the affection or interest they showed one another. Or, friends, anyway. Maybe just acquaintances. 

Draco groaned and dropped his head onto his arms. He should have split from Astoria years ago. At least then, Scorpius would have seen something honest, and who knows? Maybe they’d both have found someone they truly loved by now and been able to show their son not only what love really looks like, but also that ‘family’ can mean lots of things. After all, hadn’t Narcissa, Scorpius’s grandmother, been more of a mother to him than Astoria? But at the same time, Astoria had always been there for Scorpius, loved him in her own way, cherished him more than anyone, much as Draco did. Their relationship was different than his with his son; it was less demonstrative, less constant, but it was there nonetheless.

He’d get a divorce. He had to. There was no way he could go forward in his life now that he’d seen… _that_. He’d had enough of putting his own happiness aside, and he wanted to be free to explore whatever might come his way. 

The alarm on Draco’s watch went off and he jumped. He chuckled lightly to himself as he turned it off. He had fifteen minutes before his meeting began, and he needed to get ready and put this matter out of mind for a while. It would be difficult, perhaps, to sit at the table with Theo, but he harbored the man no ill will. If he wanted Astoria, then it wouldn’t be long before he could have her. 

Draco stood and brushed off the seat of his trousers. Then he picked up the suit jacket, grimacing at the wrinkles. No matter; Mildred could work wonders with her wand at getting stains and wrinkles out of clothes. He supposed it was why his father had hired her, as he couldn’t be bothered to do anything for himself. 

The thought made Draco pause, realizing that he, too, had simply relied on the witch to sort him out. He resolved to ask her to teach him the spells—but not today.

He picked up the card Scorpius had made and smiled at it. He’d used yellow paper—Astoria’s favorite color—and drawn a big, friendly sun in one corner. Then he’d drawn some rudimentary flowers—tulips, her favorite—growing out of a line of green grass. He’d then asked Draco to charm the sun to ‘shine’ and the flowers to ‘dance.’ Inside, the card read: “Mummy, you’re my sunshine,” and had a large, red heart drawn on the entire left side. 

He made his way back to the lift and pressed the call button. He hummed as he waited for it, then he hummed while it carried him back up to the suite of offices that housed Malfoy Industries. When the doors opened, everything looked the same as it had only an hour earlier, but he felt different. Lighter. He’d been in a good mood before, but this time he merely felt peace. He’d made a decision about his future that would, he hoped, lead to something positive. 

That had to be better than the mire he’d been in for far too long.

“Good afternoon again, Mildred. Is my office clear now?” He smiled serenely at Mildred, who looked as though she might strain a blood vessel. 

The old witch blanched and stood as though to prevent him from going in there again. But instead of moving, she stayed behind her desk, wringing her hands. “Oh, Mr. Malfoy, yes. It’s… they’re gone. But Sir—”

“Let me know when everyone arrives, would you?” He held out the jacket with an apologetic shrug. “It was fine when I arrived earlier. I’m afraid I rather rumpled it a bit just now.”

Mildred took the jacket without a word and began silently casting the Charm to press the wrinkles from the garment. When Draco started for his office, she called him back. “Sir, please, this will only take a moment.”

“I’d like you to teach me this Charm, Mildred.” Draco motioned toward the jacket. “I was thinking just now, and I think I’m capable of getting my own wrinkles out.”

“Of course, Sir, anything you say.” 

She held out the now wrinkle-free jacket, and Draco took it from her. As he slid his arms through, he again made to go to his office—he was down to only seven minutes before the meeting was due to begin—but Mildred called his name once more.

“Mr. Malfoy, Sir, everyone’s here already. They’re in the conference room.”

He frowned slightly. “They’re all here? Even Simmons?” Herbert Simmons was never less than ten minutes late to anything.

Mildred began to wring her hands again. “Even Simmons, Sir. They’ve been here at least twenty minutes. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Draco’s confidence faltered but he didn’t let it show. “Ah, I’ve probably missed a memo about a time change. No matter, thank you, Mildred.”

She seemed extremely anxious, but Draco concluded it was because of what had happened earlier. She’d been with her boss when he discovered his wife _in flagrante delicto_ —on his desk, no less. She was probably expecting him to be angry or lash out, and she would be the most likely target, considering she was the only one who knew about the indiscretion outside of the two participants and himself. But Draco wasn’t feeling the least bit vindictive, even toward Astoria and Theo. It had simply been a shock to see them like that, right at the moment of release. It had been a very long time since he’d seen Astoria in such a state, as their sexual encounters had been primarily for the purpose of conception--once that had been achieved, there was no need for more. Besides, Astoria had always wanted the lights off—only a handful of times had she even wanted him to touch her. 

The conference room was down another hall, and he hummed as he made his way there. Through the glass wall, he could see everyone present, the chair at the head of the table—his chair—empty. 

When he opened the door, the room fell silent. 

“Good afternoon! I apologize for my tardiness. I didn’t get the message that the meeting had been moved up.” He unbuttoned the jacket he’d just finished buttoning only moments before and started for his chair.

Theo stood up and held out a hand. “Draco, wait a moment.”

It was strange meeting Theo’s gaze now. The last time he had done so, the other man had been almost daring him with his eyes to make a scene, to shout, to fight him—something. Now his expression was entirely blank.

“What’s going on, Theo?” Draco glanced around at the other members of the board only to find that no one would look him in the eye. 

Theo motioned to Fletcher McGivinns, Draco’s Chief Financial Officer. McGivinns fumbled with some papers on the table in front of him before he, too, stood up. “M-Mr. Malfoy. Um, yes. Well…” He stopped speaking and looked extremely uncomfortable. 

“What is it, Fletcher?” Draco tried not to sound too worried, despite a growing feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Fletcher looked at some of the other wizards and witches at the table; his lips moved but no sound came out. Theo cleared this throat, and Fletcher winced. “Yes. Right. Mr. Malfoy. The, uh, board has made a decision, and I’m afraid that you, uh, have been… voted out.”

Draco stared at him. Fletcher was very pointedly avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ve been voted out? Of what?”

“This company.” Theo squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest. Draco thought it was meant to be intimidating, but after seeing him with his pants down earlier, the effect was more comical than anything. 

“This _company_? _This_ company? You mean _Malfoy_ Industries?” Draco sneered at Theo. 

Theo shrugged. “So we’ll change the name. But you’re finished here, Draco.”

Draco saw Theo’s hand flex and knew he was itching to draw his wand. As much as Draco wanted to hex him to within an inch of his life, he suspected that was exactly what Theo was expecting. His mind was spinning with this second blow of the day. Draco clenched his jaw and glanced around the table. Still nobody would look at him, and he concluded that Theo had orchestrated the whole thing. Was Astoria involved as well? When he had walked in on them he’d thought it had been purely coincidental, but now he wondered if it might have been an indication of much, much more than just an affair. 

“Fletcher? Was this his idea?” Draco asked through gritted teeth, pointing at Theo. When the CFO resumed his seat and acted very busy with his papers, Draco moved down the table. “Carter? What about you? Will you tell me what in Merlin’s name is going on here? No? Dimitrov? Anderson? Anybody?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” said Theo smugly. “We’ve important company business to discuss, and the information is privileged.”

In that moment, Draco saw red. 

He forgot about his wand and wanted nothing more than to slam his fist into Theo’s jaw and wipe the superior smirk off his face. Clenching his fists, he made as though he would jump over the table to get at his former friend.

Theo’s confidence wavered as he took a step back. But he and Draco were on opposite sides of the table, and Draco had finally given Theo the reason he needed to make a move. 

“Security!” Theo called with glee.

Before Draco could blink, two large, brutish wizards entered the room behind him. He went for his wand, but the men were faster. One of them wrenched his arm up behind his back, forcing him to drop his wand. The other picked it up and pocketed it, then took Draco by the other arm and the two of them hauled him out of the room. 

“This isn’t over, Nott!” 

Theo grinned and gave him a small wave.

The security detail led him out of the room and all the way to the lift. One of them pressed the call button as they stood there, keeping Draco’s arm pinned painfully behind him. When the doors opened, they pushed him inside. Draco felt the tell-tale sensation of the wards recognizing him, then resetting as he crossed the barrier of the lift. He couldn’t have exited if he’d tried, and even though he desperately wanted to—wanted to run back into the conference room and confront Theo—he didn’t. Instead, he adjusted his robes and glared at the men. They retreated and Draco’s eyes fell on Mildred. She had a sad, horrified expression on her face. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy! I do so hope your day improves!”

****

**ooo**

If walking in on his wife with another man had sent him for a loop, being ousted from his own company—the one started by his great-great-great grandfather—was a thousand times worse. For the second time that day, he stood in the lift, dazed beyond comprehension as it traveled to the lobby. This time, however, he wasn’t numb. He was livid. He was confused. He was filled with white-hot hate for Theodore Nott.

When the doors opened and he stepped out, he didn’t pause. No, his stride was purposeful as he went to the Apparating center of the wizarding building, and from there he went straight to the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn’t had a drink all day, and he was well overdue considering everything that had happened.

How could it have started so well? Was it possible that it had been only _that_ morning that he and Scorpius had planned to build a tree fort together? Using a drill, of all things?

Three hours and an untold number of drinks later, Draco’s watch alarm went off. He scowled at it as he realized it meant he only had ten minutes to get home because Astoria’s birthday dinner was due to commence in fifteen. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than seeing his wife just now, but there was no way he would disappoint his son. Besides, he had Scorpius’s card, and he would not fail to deliver that. 

When he stood up from the bar, he stumbled, and Tom handed him a little pouch of Floo powder. “No Apparating for you.”

Draco took the bag with a grimace and lurched to the large fireplace. He threw in the powder, but when the green flames sprung up, he couldn’t think of what to say. After standing there, swaying on the spot for at least two minutes, someone nudged him. Draco blinked, remembering himself. “Malfoy Manor!”

He was sick into a potted plant as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace at home, but at least he’d made it. Narcissa found him like that, bent low over the large, wide ceramic pot, expecting more to follow and not having the wherewithal to make himself move. 

Narcissa rushed to his side. “Oh! Draco! Are you all right?” 

“Fine, Mother. Just a bit… a bit sloshed, I think.”

Narcissa frowned. “Draco! I’m astonished at you! We’re all waiting!” She hauled him to his feet and looked into his eyes. He couldn’t focus on her, so he simply waited for whatever she was going to say. But something she saw softened her expression, and she pursed her lips. “Go. Take a Sober-Up. I know you’ve a stash in your nightstand. And for goodness sake, change your clothes. You smell like a liquor store. I’ll have Kippy see to it that you don’t pass out on the stairs.” She released him and bustled from the room. 

Draco sighed, and before he was finished exhaling, Kippy, the only house-elf who remained in their service, appeared. He scowled and started toward his room. About five minutes into the long journey from the fireplace to his suite, he was thankful for the elf’s presence. She’d kept him from tripping and falling, then retrieved a vial from his drawer, uncorked it, and forced it into his hand. 

Draco scowled at the vial but downed it anyway. Thirty seconds later, reality hit him like a Bludger to the head, and it was only the thought of Scorpius downstairs that propelled him forward. Rather than change, he cast a few freshening spells on his clothes, redid his tie, ran his fingers through his hair so that at least it looked _deliberately_ messy, then gave himself a pep talk that he hoped would get him through what felt like an impossible dinner. 

When he finally felt like he wasn’t going to implode, Draco headed down to the dining room. He had Scorpius’s card in hand, though he had to keep reminding himself not to destroy it every time he had the urge to clench his fists.

He heard Astoria’s laughter as he neared the room, and it grated on his nerves. He shoved that down, plastered on a smile that he intended for his son only, and crossed the threshold. 

“Daddy!” Scorpius leapt from his chair and threw his arms around Draco’s middle. 

It was exactly what he needed. Draco hugged him back, unwilling to let him go until Scorpius finally said, “Um, Dad?”

Draco chuckled and released him, feeling like he could breathe properly for the first time in a long while. “Sorry about that, Buddy.” Then he knelt down, using Scorpius as a shield so that he could give the birthday card to his son. 

Scorpius’s eyes lit up and he immediately spun around. “Happy Birthday, Mum!” He darted back across the room, holding the card out in front of him. 

Draco watched Scorpius until he’d reached Astoria, then finally looked at his wife. She was watching him closely, and he saw fear and apprehension in her eyes. 

_Good_. 

Let her sweat a little.

He took a deep breath and followed Scorpius’s steps until he reached Astoria. “Happy Birthday.” He smiled, but it was tight and came nowhere near his eyes. 

“Draco.” Her voice was breathy, trembling. 

He could only incline his head, the forced, robotic smile still on his face. If she wanted more from him, she didn’t make any indication. He then walked around the table to sit beside Scorpius. It had been a difficult choice: should he sit beside her—close to her but not able to really see her—or across from her where she couldn’t be in his personal space, but he could still incidentally glance her way now and then. But his decision was easy, since even standing beside her made him anxious. 

“Let’s sing!” cried Scorpius, clapping his hands once. “Grand’Mere?”

Narcissa laughed, the sound reminiscent of bells in Draco’s mind. She agreed to join Scorpius, and the two of them launched into a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ that made Draco smile. Before Scorpius was born, Draco couldn’t remember ever seeing his mother do anything silly, much less sing a song. As a grandmother, Narcissa was quite malleable; she would do almost anything Scorpius asked of her. So far, his whims were mostly of the adventurous nature, nothing dangerous. 

Draco didn’t join in on the song. He simply couldn’t force himself to regard her with anything approaching kindness, not so soon after his discovery. 

Astoria clapped when the song concluded and kissed Scorpius on the cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

“Shall we begin?” Narcissa clapped her hands once and food—all of Astoria’s favorite dishes—appeared on the table. 

Draco was more reserved than usual; he couldn’t force himself to pretend that nothing had happened. Narcissa kept casting him strange looks, but he refused to give anything away over dinner. Thankfully, since Astoria was the focus of dinner, nobody asked Draco about his day. He’d have to tell his mother what had happened at work and about Astoria, but that could all wait. Even though this was Astoria’s birthday, his main concern was Scorpius. Narcissa must have picked up on the odd tension between her son and his wife because she went out of her way to make conversation and generally keep the atmosphere light and cheerful. 

Scorpius talked almost nonstop about his tree fort, and Astoria, to her credit, seemed genuinely interested.

Draco ate sparingly; he wasn’t terribly hungry, but he knew that after a diet of only alcohol for the past few hours, he should get some sustenance into his body. After all, he had a long night of drinking ahead and he needed to be prepared. 

The instant Astoria set her fork down, indicating she was finished, Scorpius jumped up. “Daddy, can we give it to her now?”

Draco chuckled, noting that both he and his mother were still eating. But Narcissa quickly set her fork down as well, so Draco nodded. “Do you need any help?”

“No.” Scorpius looked to Narcissa. “Grand’Mere will help me.” He reached for her hand and Narcissa stood, dabbing her lips with her napkin as she did. 

“We’ll be right back.”

Draco’s blood froze at the realization that he was about to be left alone with Astoria. He desperately wanted to flee—follow his son, insist that his mother allow him the task of assisting—but he couldn’t seem to move. 

“Draco,” Astoria began.

He sprang out of his seat to get away from her; even sitting across the table was too close when they were alone. 

She stood as well, her expression desperate. “Please, will you listen to me?”

Draco scoffed and began pacing. “I fail to see what needs to be said.”

“I... I’m so sorry you saw that.” It seemed she wanted to say more, but she faltered under his cold stare. 

“Not sorry it happened though,” he bit out angrily. She hadn’t hurt him, but he still felt slighted in the worst way. She had carried on an affair, allowing it to culminate at his place of work, right out in the open where anybody could have discovered it. They could have been found by people far worse for their respective images than himself: a reporter, disgruntled employee out for extortion, even their son. Scorpius had come to Draco’s office only the day before.

“What, do you suddenly _care_ , or something?” She stood tall. “I thought we were long past that sort of thing, Draco.”

He scowled. “Yes, Astoria, I do care. I care that you two were shagging in the middle of the afternoon, at _my_ place of business, in _my_ office, on _my_ bloody desk!” By the time he finished, he was shouting. “Did you care nothing for our family’s image? For the business? For your son?”

“We didn’t mean to. We were in there to talk, but then things... got a bit out of hand. But Theo assured me it would be safe! He cast Silencing Charms and warded the door so no one could enter!”

“Except it was _my_ bloody office! He couldn’t very well keep me out with some flimsy wards!”

“You weren’t supposed to be there!”

Draco slammed his fist down on the table. Astoria flinched. He was about to say more but he heard footsteps—his mother’s heels—so he took a step back, his eyes flashing. “This isn’t aren’t finished.”

Narcissa and Scorpius returned them, bearing a tray of biscuits. Upon first glance, there appeared to be a large assortment. After a closer look, Draco saw that they were merely all decorated differently. There were cookies in the shapes of magical creatures, flowers, magical plants, as well as some that were distinctly muggle, including a football done in black and white to look just like the real thing. Vaguely, Draco realized Hermione must have sent Scorpius some of her cookie cutters. 

Astoria clapped her hands together and beamed at Scorpius. “They’re lovely, darling! Did you make them?”

“Grand’Mere helped. A little.” He shrugged but it was clear he was proud of himself.

Draco met his mother’s eyes and saw her wink before turning to gaze adoringly upon her grandson. 

“It looks like you worked very hard on these.” Draco picked up a Snitch to take a closer look. “This looks nearly like the real thing! I don’t know how I could possibly eat it. The metal might crack my teeth.”

Scorpius laughed. “I made that one especially for you, Dada. Go on, try it!”

Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He took a bite off one of the wings, delighted at how delicious it tasted. “Mm, this is great, Score.”

He smiled widely, then turned to his mother. “The rest are for you.”

Draco scowled as Astoria swept her hands down her robes. He knew she was thinking of her figure, it had been the most important thing to her throughout her pregnancy. After giving birth to Scorpius, she’d been single-minded in working to get her body to its pre-pregnancy state. Draco could only guess at her thoughts about being gifted a plate with over a dozen delicious, iced biscuits. 

She managed a smile, however, and chose the smallest one on the platter: a flower. After a miniscule bite, she smiled at Scorpius. “It’s delicious, dear. Thank you.”

Scorpius’s smile faltered. “Oh, Mum, may Grand’Mere have one?”

“Of course!” Astoria replied eagerly. 

Even though Narcissa had clearly noticed that he and Astoria were even more chilly than they had been, she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t long before Scorpius was yawning, and Draco realized it was nearly his bedtime. Draco told him to say goodnight to his mother and grandmother, then took him upstairs to put him to bed. 

When Scorpius was completely ready, he snuggled under the covers and got comfortable. Draco sat on top of the bedspread, his back propped against the headboard. 

“Are you ready to continue our story?” Scorpius had come home with a book Miss Granger had recommended and Draco, despite himself, was enjoying the story very much. 

“In a minute. Dad, can I ask you something?” 

Draco smiled. “Of course, son.” He was perfectly content now that he was away from Astoria and likely wouldn’t see her again that night. He was in no hurry to leave his son’s side. 

“Do you think Mum liked her birthday?”

An image of her from earlier, eyes shut and lips parted in ecstasy, flashed through his mind. He just managed to keep himself from scowling. “I do. Why do you ask?”

“She never seems all that interested in what I’m talking about.” Scorpius shrugged. “Like my tree fort.”

Draco frowned. “I thought she was glad to hear what you had to say.” He had decided a long time ago never to disparage Astoria in front of Scorpius, to pretend as though everything was fine between them. He wondered briefly if this would be confusing when it came time to begin divorce proceedings, but he’d have to cross that bridge when he came to it. 

“It’s never like you, though. You really _listen_. I can’t explain it.” He snuggled further under the covers, resting his head against Draco’s arm. 

“I’m always here for you, Scorpius.” Draco bent down and kissed the top of his son’s head. “I love you.”

“Will you read now, Daddy?” 

Draco smiled and opened the book. “Chapter twelve.”

****

**ooo**

Thirty minutes later, Scorpius was fast asleep and Draco had just entered his office. He let out a long breath, thankful that the day was nearly over. With a flick of his wand, the fire was roaring, and he went to the sideboard to pour himself something strong. He chose one of the whiskeys his father had set aside for special occasions, and while discovering his wife in the act of cheating followed by being ousted from the company that bore his name weren’t special in the traditional sense, it also marked a huge change for him, one that he felt worthy of a special drink.

He poured two fingers and went to the chair by the fire, ready to begin a night of wallowing. Tomorrow he would figure things out, find out where he stood financially, consider all of his options. Tonight—tonight was for forgetting. 

Just as he sat down, before he’d even settled himself into the chair, someone knocked on his door. Assuming it was his mother who’d come to ask what was wrong, Draco called, “Come in,” hoping to send her away with a promise to talk in the morning. 

He was shocked when Astoria walked in, her steps hesitant. 

Draco was instantly alert, his entire body reacting to her presence in his personal sanctuary. He scowled and stood, tossing back the unfinished drink. 

“Draco, I need you to hear me.”

He went back to the sideboard and set his glass down on the surface harder than he intended to. “Did you help him?” With determined movements, he poured himself another drink. 

“What? Help who?” 

Draco whirled around, his lip curled in revulsion. “Don’t play stupid with me, Astoria. Were you and Theo working together? Did you help him undermine me with the board? How long have you been—” He held up a hand, turning his head away from her as he gathered himself. “Never mind. I’m not doing this tonight.”

“Draco—”

“I’m serious.” He threw back the second drink, set the glass back down, and went to the coat rack to retrieve his cloak. “This isn’t happening tonight.” He threw the cloak around his shoulders and walked past her to the door in three long strides. With one last glance, he saw that she wasn’t going to try and stop him again, so he continued through the door, walking determinedly toward the main fireplace.

If Astoria insisted on invading his private space, then he’d simply go somewhere else. He could get a drink—or four—lots of places, and the Leaky Cauldron would suit his needs just fine.

****

**ooo**

One hour and five drinks later, Draco was completely sloshed. Again. It felt so good to feel absolutely nothing. His mind replayed the day’s events over and over, and each time, he was less and less angry about it. He suspected the anger was still there, but he wasn’t feeling it anymore, which was the whole point.

When he asked for another drink, Tom frowned and told him he should wait or order something to eat. Draco wasn’t much in the mood for such logic, so he paid his tab and headed into Diagon Alley. He’d find that seedy pub in Knockturn that wouldn’t turn him down, even though it was filthy and he generally avoided the area. It wasn’t a good practice to be seen in such a disreputable area of town, but needs must be met, and he _needed_ another drink.

As soon as he stepped through the portal, however, a light flashed in his eyes.

“Mr. Malfoy! What do you have to say about the reports that Theodore Nott has taken over Malfoy Industries?”

Draco scowled as another flash went off. He realized it was a camera, and that someone had heard about what had happened. “What report?”

Another voice, this one female, shouted, “It was in the _Evening Prophet!_ Front page, headline news!”

More flashes bombarded his senses, sending slices of pain through his alcohol-clouded brain. 

“Care to comment on the rumors that he’s been working with someone behind the scenes?”

Draco gritted his teeth and tried to get away from what appeared to be a small crowd of reporters. It would be huge news, with far-reaching ramifications, that Malfoy Industries had fallen under some kind of takeover, and no doubt these reporters were trying to get a statement from him. It felt like they were surrounding him. He held his arms up as though to ward them off as he pushed through the small crowd, who were still clicking away and shooting questions at him. 

If he’d been sober at all, he might have wondered why a crowd of reporters had been there waiting for him, but all he could think was that he needed to get away. 

Once he made his way through the barrier of people, he stumbled down the alley. To his dismay, a few of the reporters were following him, still calling out questions. 

Draco started trying the doors of the various shops. If he could get inside somewhere, he’d be safe. But of course, nothing was open at this late hour. It was nearly midnight, after all. He tripped and fell once, and the reports gained in him. Vaguely, he considered what the headline in tomorrow’s _Prophet_ might read: 

_Disgraced and ousted Malfoy heir passes out drunk in an alley, pictures on pages 4-7._

Just when he’d almost given up, a door knob turned. He hadn’t been expecting it, so he’d thrown his full weight against the door. Subsequently, when it gave way, he stumbled into the room, where he promptly tripped on something and fell. 

He put out his hands to brace himself, but to his surprise, he landed on a large pile of pillows with a loud _thoomp._

The door clicked shut behind him, and Draco listened with bated breath as the crowd that had been following him came near. He saw their shadows through curtained windows, watched them pause and look around, then continue on their way. He let out a breath of deep relief, then turned over onto his back and gasped in surprise.

The room he’d entered was full of a hazy, purple fog, which twisted and danced in the air. Streams of light from candles played with the fog, making him feel like he was underwater. There was a heady scent as well, now that he thought about it, though he couldn’t place it. At best, it reminded him of Trelawney’s tower room at Hogwarts. 

Then, startling him, a misty voice spoke. “Welcome, Mr. Malfoy. You’re right on time.”

Before he could properly register what was happening, he saw a shape moving above him and then something like sparkling crystals fell down onto his face. He wanted to wave them away, but he was suddenly _so_ tired. His body felt... heavy, his protests unimportant. 

It was nice here, and quiet, and he could just... 

Rest.............

.

.

.

Draco opened his eyes just as something very hard hit him on the cheek.

_SMACK_

“Don’t you dare call Hagrid pathetic you foul—you evil—”

His head whipped around from the force of the blow, and his mind distantly registered that none other than Hermione Granger had just slapped him.


	2. All the Things I Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco embarks on an adventure in his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many endless thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione, for the beta work and also the BEAUTIFUL graphic for this chapter! And many thanks to the moderators of the Dramione RomCom Fest! This story has been a blast to write, and I've had lots of fun with the whole thing.
> 
> Song lyrics quoted at the beginning, plus chapter title, come from the song "Rushing Back" by flume.
> 
>   
>    
> 

_I always let the days slip away, I should have been making up my mind  
I never opened up, took it all in and now I’m running out of time  
Sometimes I dream about going back, keeping all the things I left behind  
But now I know you can’t change the past, way too young to know the reason why_

* * *

**04.26.94**

Draco had forgotten just how hard Hermione had hit him. He felt the stinging pain and gritted his teeth, turning back to see her winding up for another swing. 

Potter and Weasley grabbed her though, pulling her away as she glared at him with hatred in her eyes. 

Then she pulled out her wand, and Draco stepped back. He knew she wouldn’t hex him, but the sight of a very angry Hermione Granger brandishing a wand was enough to make anybody nervous.

“C’mon.” he muttered to his friends, and they headed into the passageway to the dungeons. Once they were out of sight of the entrance hall, Draco stopped. Now that the surprise of being physically assaulted had passed, he needed to stop and get his bearings. 

“You okay, Draco?”

He jumped, startled, to find Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle watching him anxiously. 

What the—

“I’m fine.” He touched his cheek and tried hard not to wince at the pain. “Granger is a lightweight.”

Vince clenched his fists. “You want us to go after them?”

“What?” Draco blanched. “Er, no. No, I... I think I’m going to go to the library.”

“Are you sure? We could try to find that Great Oaf Hagrid, see if we can hear him sobbing again. Can you imagine, crying over his stupid hippogriff?”

Draco’s mind spun. Hippogriff? What on Earth was going on? Why was he at Hogwarts? How was Vince alive? It was just like... _Third year!_

Without regard for his friends, Draco frantically pulled up the left arm of his robes and gasped. His arm was unblemished, pale and clear; he nearly collapsed with a strange sense of relief. 

Of course, he still remembered everything—third year and beyond, being Marked by the Dark Lord, the war, his stint in Azkaban, marrying Astoria, Scorpius’s birth. He remembered watching his son grow, teaching him to ride a broom, taking him to school for the first time, every birthday. And, with a scowl, he remembered what had immediately preceded being slapped by Hermione: Astoria’s infidelity, Theo stealing his company, and passing out in a strange room somewhere in Diagon Alley. 

Yet here he was, completely sober, in his thirteen-year-old body, every detail correct right down to his Mark-free arm. 

What the bloody fuck was going on?

“Draco?” Greg was giving him a strange look. “You aren’t going to let that jumped up little Mudblood ruin our fun, are you?”

Draco had to stop himself from cringing at Greg’s use of the slur. He hadn’t heard or spoken it in years. It felt strangely wrong now. Of course, at thirteen, he had said it as casually as any other word. 

He needed to pretend everything was fine. “We’ll do it later. I remembered something I forgot to do. I’ll catch you two later.”

Greg and Vince exchanged a look, then shrugged. “See you, then.” They turned and continued down the passageway.

Draco headed back out toward the entrance hall, then realized he needed at least a school book or parchment so that he wouldn’t raise suspicion. He caught up with Greg and Vince, glad he had because he didn’t remember the password for their common room. He mumbled something about forgetting a book, ran to his room, grabbed a few things, and hurried back out. As he walked, he decided he needed to speak to Hermione. Yes, she’d just slapped him, but she was reasonable. In third year, she’d been excessively swotty, he only had to tell her that something had happened and he’d traveled back in time. Surely she would be able to set aside her wrath and help him. At least, he sure hoped so. 

If there was anything he knew about Hermione Granger in school, it was that, sooner or later, she’d wind up in the library, so that’s where he needed to go. Maybe it was because he had seen her first upon arriving here, but for some reason he felt certain that she would help. He had to figure out why he’d moved through time and how he could return. As much as he had liked his early school years, he wasn’t anxious to relive them. 

Draco took a seat near the door so he wouldn’t miss her coming. He even stayed through dinner, despite being hungry, on the off chance she might arrive then. Plus, he wasn’t keen on having to interact with his classmates. He didn’t want to behave like his thirteen-year-old self had, but he knew he’d get a lot of funny looks and questions if he suddenly acted wildly different. 

And, upon consideration of it, his behavior would be drastically different. 

Plus, he had no idea what was going on. Had he truly traveled through time? Or was this a very bizarre dream? Considering what had happened in that strange room, this could be a spell or potion induced hallucination—although, the Slap had felt very, very real. And time was passing normally; his boredom would attest to that. He’d taken to writing down everything he could remember about third year, just in case it might prove helpful. But then he’d remembered that, if he _had_ truly traveled through time, he couldn’t risk changing anything. 

Finally, not long after dinner ended, Hermione arrived in the library. Draco let out a breath of relief and waited until she had settled herself, spreading her books and notes on the table. He then waited an extra ten minutes before approaching her. 

“Hey, Hermione.” He slid into a seat across from her, laid his wand on the table between them, then held his hands up in a posture of surrender. 

Her head jerked up and surprise registered briefly before a look of abject loathing took its place. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” she practically spit at him, and he saw her reach for her wand. 

“I’m not here to bother you. I just need your help.”

She glared at him, tightening her grip on her wand. “You want _my_ help? Since when? I’m just a filthy Mudblood, remember?”

He winced automatically and her eyes widened. “I know this is going to sound absolutely bat-shit crazy, but I can’t think of anyone else to talk to about this. Please, I know I was an arse earlier, and you’ve no reason to trust me. All I ask is that you’ll listen.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why should I?”

“Because the Hermione I know is fair and forgiving.”

“You don’t know me at all, Malfoy. I’ve always been beneath your notice.”

He sighed and leaned forward, worried about being overheard. The Hermione he knew was also thorough and meticulous. “I... I’m from the future somehow. I don’t understand how it happened, but I think you’re the best person to help me.”

Her expression would have been amusing if he weren’t so worried about getting her to listen to him. She seemed torn between disbelief and extreme interest, with a hefty dose of loathing still in the mix. 

“From... the future?” She spoke the last word in a whisper. 

“Yes. I woke up... Or, rather, come to, right before you slapped me. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Why should I believe you?” At least she had relaxed her hold on her wand. 

He spread his hands wide. “Besides being unarmed, I’m sure you’ve noticed some odd behavior from me. I’m completely comfortable with your given name, as I have been calling you by it for years.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you saying we’re… _friendly?_ In the... the future?”

He hesitated. He had to be very careful, since anything he said might have unintended and devastating consequences, no matter how harmless a piece of information might seem. But he needed to gain her trust somehow. 

“Something like that.” He’d thought being vague was the best route, but then she gave him a look of horror.

“We aren’t... _together?_ “

Draco’s smile dropped. “Oh, Merlin, no. Not at all.”

Though of course, there were the distinct sensations of _interest_ he’d been feeling for her lately, but he thought it best not to even hint at such a thing. _This_ Hermione was seventeen years younger than him and currently despised him. 

Relief flooded her expression, which quickly morphed into wariness. “So, you’ve used my name and haven’t insulted me. It’s only been ten minutes, is that supposed to impress me?” She paused, thoughtful. “Actually, I do believe that’s an important detail. You’ve also not sneered at me, ridiculed me, insulted me, or called me names, _and_ you asked me for help. You’ve said please, which I don’t believe the boy I know has ever even heard before. But there’s one test that remains.” She glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then, without warning, reached her hand out and wrapped it around his wrist. 

Thankfully, it was his right arm or he might have flinched, though not because she’d touched him. The Mark was burned into his left forearm, and he’d always been sensitive about it.

He didn’t move, kept his gaze steady on her, until she felt convinced. She released him and sat back. “Fine. I’m listening. What happened, Malfoy From the Future.”

He told her just enough to inform her of what had happened while not giving too many details. As he spoke, he noticed her hand sometimes rose to absently finger a chain around her neck. 

“And that’s when I realized I should speak to you. So I’ve been in here ever since. Waiting.”

Hermione was biting her lip, her brow furrowed. She peered at him for a long while without speaking, then finally sighed. “Well, you’re in luck. I happen to be doing quite a lot of reading on time travel this year, so I’ve a stack of books for you.” She slid one of the stacks on her table over to him. “There’s all sorts there. Potions, spells, dreams, physical transport—hopefully you’ll find whatever you need.”

He smiled at her, and she gasped at him. Oh right, he’d never smiled at her before. “Thank you, Hermione. I really appreciate this.” He pulled the books over and started to go through the stack.

“Are you... planning to stay here to read?” she asked, incredulous.

“Unless you’d like me to move.”

Hermione frowned. “Someone might see, though.”

“I don’t care if you don’t,” he said breezily, opening the first book to the table of contents. 

After a few minutes, she huffed and put her quill down. “Why me, though? Surely any of the teachers would believe you. McGonagall or Dumbledore—”

He vigorously shook his head. “They might tell my father. And I need to keep the timeline intact, just in case this is real.”

She seemed mollified and went back to her work.

Nobody bothered them, but they were tucked away in a back corner where people generally didn’t venture. He read until the library closed, occasionally asking Hermione questions or showing her something interesting he’d found.

As they packed up, Hermione eyed him curiously. “So, what happens tomorrow? It’s one thing for you to talk to me in here, but what about in front of your classmates?”

Draco snorted. “Hermione, I’m more than twice their age. I don’t care about the things I cared about at thirteen. What can they do to me?”

“They can tell your father,” she said quietly.

He froze in the middle of stacking the books on time travel. “Oh. That’s... that’s true. Excellent point. Of course, I’m not afraid of him. No matter what, though, I won’t be a git to you. I’ll figure something out, think of some way to make this work.”

“Really? You suddenly want to be my friend?”

Draco grinned. “Why not? Although, I’ve already completed my schooling, so your top place just might become mine.”

She gasped, indignation written all over her face. “That’s not fair! You’re a full-fledged wizard!”

He shrugged. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. But I’ve got to make the best of it.”

Hermione pursed her lips and he wondered if she was planning to increase her study schedule to prevent him overtaking her. 

They stopped at the place where they needed to go separate ways. “See you tomorrow, Hermione.”

“Good night, Malfoy.”

Draco chuckled and headed for his common room with the heavy stack of books in his arms. He planned to read them until he fell asleep, then wake up and read every spare second until he sorted out what was going on.

There were a handful of older students in the common room, but Draco paid them no mind. In his room, Theo, Vince, and Greg had their curtains pulled, but Blaise’s light was on. 

He peered around his curtain and raised an eyebrow at Draco’s stack. “Is there an assignment I’m not aware of?”

“No. This isn’t for school.” He didn’t say more, only changed into pajamas and crawled into bed. He drew the curtains and settled in for a long night of reading. 

Tomorrow he wanted to have a few theories ready for when he spoke with Hermione again. 

The last time he checked his watch, it was after two in the morning, and he felt himself flagging. He yawned a few times, then slowly slumped lower and lower. Finally he got under the covers, a book open beside him. The last thing he remembered was a particularly useless passage on warts that had a bad habit of growing bigger as the sun rose in the sky, then fading to freckles as it set.

* * *

* * *

**04.26.95**

When Draco woke, he expected to have a crick in his neck from the way he’d fallen asleep. Sunlight peeped through the windows, and he could hear his roommates moving around, Vince and Theo talking quietly.

Draco sat up and rubbed his neck, looking around for the book he had been reading the night before. The trouble was, the book was nowhere to be seen. In fact, none of the books he’d borrowed from Hermione were visible. 

He swept his curtain aside and saw Greg putting on his robes. Only... Greg looked different than the last time he’d seen him. Draco frowned, trying to sort out what it was. Maybe he was... taller? Wider? No matter. 

“Greg, mate, where did all my books go?” Draco swung his legs over the side of his bed and pulled on a pair of trousers. 

Then he froze; he distinctly remembered putting on pajamas the night before, yet he’d woken up in only a pair of shorts. 

Greg looked at him strangely. “Your school books are right where you left them, Draco.”

He slipped off his bed, trying to appear nonchalant, and went to his trunk. Inside were only his school books, and he let out a gasp as his gaze fell on _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_.

Draco sat back and stared unseeing at the contents of his trunk. _Grade Four?_

Had he really woken in his fourth year? Draco checked through all of his books, and sure enough, everything was for fourth year. He even saw the ostentatious black dress robes he’d worn to the Yule Ball.

_Hermione._

Draco shot up and threw on the rest of his clothes, pulling his robes on as he ran from the room, heedless of the calls of his friends. 

Unfortunately, seeing her alone proved nearly impossible. She was always with her friends, and he had to pretend to participate in castle life. At the very least, he needed to eat, even though it seemed he’d picked up where his fourteen-year-old self was and he wasn’t any hungrier than usual. He’d felt pretty hungry as he’d laid in bed reading the day— _the year?_ —before. He couldn’t do that again. 

Finally, after pretending his way through the day, he made his way to the library. After dinner, he went there and pulled out one of the books he’d been reading before and sat down near the entrance. Hermione came in not long after, but she wasn’t alone. Viktor Krum was by her side, and they seemed to be having a pleasant conversation if her expression was anything to go by. 

Draco frowned, recalling that she’d gone to the Yule Ball with Krum—and that he’d found her quite pretty that night—but he hadn’t known that the two had continued any kind of association. He felt a strange bubbling of jealousy but forced it away. It was stupid; she obviously didn’t carry on any kind of long-term relationship with Krum, and he happened to know that Hermione in his future had been single on the day he’d somehow traveled through time. If he could just get back home, he could divorce Astoria and then, after a proper period of time, he could consider pursuing something with Hermione. 

Tonight, he would just have to wait Krum out. 

After an hour, however, he was beginning to think that Krum would stay as long as Hermione did. With a heavy sigh, he stood and took the book with him so that he could look for them. To his annoyance, he found them in the same spot he and Hermione had occupied the day—year—before. Then he realized it must have been her favorite location in the library and resolved to get hold of his emotions. 

As he approached them, however, Krum leaned in and kissed Hermione. Draco saw red. He may have had the mind of a thirty-year-old man, but his body—and all the hormones present therein—were of a fourteen-year-old boy. He reached for his wand and might have hexed the older boy had another student not stepped in front of him, causing Draco to collide with them. 

“S-Sorry!” A red-faced Neville Longbottom spluttered in his attempt to get away from Draco as quickly as possible. 

Draco shook his head. “It’s all right. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Neville blinked at him, then his eyes shifted nervously. “I… what?”

“Never mind. I apologize for running into you.” With that, Draco continued on his path toward Hermione. 

She and Krum had been interrupted by the commotion of Draco’s collision with Neville, however, and they were watching him apprehensively. 

Draco reached their table and dropped the heavy book on it with a muffled _thud_. “Hermione, could I speak with you?”

Her eyes narrowed at him, but when she recognized the book he’d brought, she started in surprise. “I… yes, all right. Viktor, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Krum seemed disappointed and gave Draco a dark look, but he left without arguing. 

When he was gone, Draco sank into the chair across from Hermione. “Thank you. I’ve been trying to talk to you all day, but it’s been rather hectic.”

Hermione crossed her arms and gave him a very stern look. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

He gritted his teeth, reminding himself that for her, _he_ hadn’t spoken to her in a very long time. “It’s fourth year now. Last night, I took a stack of books to my room and read until I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was fourth year!” He leaned forward so he could speak quieter, his irritation with Krum gone. “It would appear that I jumped _forward_ in time! Have you ever heard of anything like this?”

She bit her lip, indecision warring on her features. Finally, she sighed. “Listen, Malfoy. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know that I can help you. After that night, when we spent all those hours here together, you were… _awful_ to me. I tried to speak to you the next day, and you acted like you had no idea what I was talking about. You ridiculed me, called me Mudblood, and humiliated me in front of everyone. I’m not interested in playing this game with you.”

Hermione began gathering her things, and Draco started to panic. “Wait, Hermione, please. Think about it. If _I_ , Draco from the future, skipped a whole bunch of time, then it stands to reason that _I—future Draco_ —only exist in the days when I’m here, and my past self is here for the rest.”

She paused. “So then tomorrow, if I tried to speak to you about this conversation—”

“My past self wouldn’t remember it because _he_ didn’t have it. _I_ did. I am. I will have done.” He huffed. “You know what I mean? Look, I’m terribly sorry for the things I said to you as a kid. I was a right arse to you. I’ve apologized multiple times for everything I did.”

“And do I forgive you? In the future, I mean?”

Draco nodded. “As I said yesterday, or uh, last year, the Hermione I know is very fair and forgiving. She listens and… well, she knows my story and understands it.”

Hermione harrumphed but stopped packing. She peered at him, and Draco could practically hear her thinking. After a moment, she tapped the table with her quill. “I wonder why you’d skip time. How much time? Do you know?”

“No, I never bothered to look. Before, I thought I was there to stay—in third year. Never dreamed I’d wake up in fourth.”

“Hang on a minute.” Hermione began digging through her bag, finally pulling out what looked like a planner. Only it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, with colored tabs sticking out in all directions and loose sheets of parchment poking out at odd angles. It was either the most organized planner he’d ever seen or the least. She apparently knew exactly what she was after, however, and began furiously flipping through the pages. “Ah! Here.” She showed him the planner, open to a calendar of April 1994, and pointed to April 20th. “This is the date that Buckbeak was sentenced to death.” Then she moved her finger to April 26th. “And this is the first time we had Care of Magical Creatures after that. Consequently, this is also the first time we could speak to Hagrid about it.” She tapped the little square, in which she had drawn—and then crossed out—a very small, green snake. “This is when I slapped you. And also when you came to me in the library.”

Draco nodded. “All right. That’s… something, I suppose.”

Hermione then turned a few pages until she reached April 1995. Then she pointed to the box containing the number twenty-six. “This is today. It can’t be coincidence that both of the days you’ve spent in the past were April 26th.”

“I’m sure you’re—Oh, bloody hell.” He sat back in his seat, staring at the little box with a twenty-six inside it. “It’s the same day in my timeline. The 26th of April.” _Astoria’s birthday_. 

They looked at each other then. “So then, when you go to sleep tonight, you’ll wake up—”

“April the 26th, 1996. Fifth year.” He shook his head. “Maybe. I mean, it’s hard to draw a definite conclusion based on such little data, but—”

“It’s three points. The original date you left, last year, and today. If you wake up on the same date tomorrow, I think that would be huge.” She seemed excited, but he supposed it was because they were in the midst of a mystery of sorts and she had just found an important piece. 

“I think you’re right.” He pushed the calendar back to her side of the table and leaned back in his chair. “So, let’s say the pattern holds. Will I just be reliving April 26th until I get back to my own time?”

Hermione shook her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

“So, I just… wait and see?” He felt a bit deflated. If his experience was unique, then there was nothing to go on in terms of figuring out a way home. On the other hand, maybe all he had to do was wait and he’d arrive there. He panicked a bit at the thought that he might just keep going, skip forward in time forever until his body died. He shook his head to dispel the thought; he’d cross that bridge if he came to it. 

“I don’t know what else you _can_ do. You could always go to Dumbledore—”

“No.” He couldn’t bear the thought of what was coming. This was the year, just a couple of months from now, that the Dark Lord would return, and his own world would be turned inside out. For the briefest of moments, he wanted to tell her everything that was about to happen, but he knew he couldn’t. It was way too risky, and he couldn’t take the chance that anything might change. He’d barely made it through alive the first time.

Hermione pursed her lips. “If anybody would believe you, it would be him!”

“I can’t risk anything changing, Hermione. It’s too precarious a thing.” 

“All right then.” She closed her planner and almost put it in her bag, then thought of something and opened it back to the current month. She drew a small snake on April 26th, then flipped forward, new pages forming as she went. She stopped on April 1996 and drew another small snake on the 26th. Then finally, she returned the planner to her bag. “Come and find me when you arrive next year.”

He gave her a wary look. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll be expecting you now. I’m sure we’ll have loads to discuss. And I’ll keep looking for anything I can find about what you’re experiencing. It’s clear now that you won’t have much time to spend on the problem.”

Draco shifted awkwardly in his seat. “You really don’t need to do that.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But I’m curious and want to see if our theory holds true.” Neither of them spoke for a long minute. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing more to talk about tonight.”

“I suppose not.” 

Hermione didn’t make any move to leave, and Draco had nowhere else to go. He needed to think about what his future might be, although there wasn’t much point in that. He’d know when he woke up and not any sooner. 

“What’s the future like?” She blurted it out, then clapped her hands over her mouth. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t really want to know, it’s just that I can’t imagine how you go from… well, who you are at fourteen to…” She waved absently in his direction. “This person you are now. In the future, I mean.” She laughed lightly. “It’s all so confusing.”

“My journey is… a difficult one. And you know I can’t tell you anything at all.”

Now Hermione began packing her bag. “I know that, really I do. More than most. I spent all of last year taking extra classes by way of a Time Turner.” 

His jaw dropped. “You did? I wondered how you could be in Arithmancy and Divination at the same time. But I didn’t really spend much time thinking about it.”

“It was awful, really. I drove myself into the ground by studying too much.” She shook her head with a sigh. “But in the end, it served a very good purpose. Harry and I saved Sirius and Buckbeak.”

“What!?” he all but shouted. Hermione gave him a scolding look. “What?” he repeated in a whisper. “Buckbeak? The Hippogriff? I thought it was executed!”

“No.” Hermione shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “Do you want to hear the story?”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Absolutely.”

* * *

* * *

**04.26.96**

The first thing Draco did upon opening his eyes was jump up and check his school books. Sure enough, they now included _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_. 

It would appear he’d jumped another year which, in many ways, was a relief. He didn’t think he could permanently exist in the past without changing something important, and he knew without a doubt that he’d have made different choices about many things, taking the Mark being a huge one. That would undoubtedly have huge implications for the timeline.

Next on the list was to verify the date. Draco had always kept a careful record of his school assignments, and he had a thin, black leather date book where he scribbled assignments. A quick glance confirmed that the date was, in fact, the 26th of April, 1995. 

It was also a relief to have this theory confirmed. Although he certainly didn’t remember anything specific happening on this date in his life, at least Hermione knew about it. 

He still had no way of knowing if any of it was real. It could be a very elaborate potion-induced dream, though why someone would give it to him was beyond him. For the time being, it would seem that he was destined to live through April 26th every year, though he didn’t like to think about what would happen when he caught up with himself. 

Draco got back into his bed and pulled his curtains. He needed to think about fifth year so he could get through the day. Naturally, his first wish was to talk to Hermione and tell her their theory was correct, but it simply wasn’t possible. It was a Friday, and that meant no classes for the fifth years, but there were plenty of other things going on. 

Fifth year had been one Draco had enjoyed immensely, though it had been soured by his father being arrested at the end of the year. Yes, he had been part of the Inquisitorial Squad, but that had mostly been about bossing his fellow students around, docking house points, and generally having the run of the school. Sure, he had enjoyed his position—especially whenever he got to take points from Gryffindors—but he now recognized the harm of everything Umbridge stood for. She had truly wanted absolute power, which was a very dangerous thing, even in the best hands. Umbridge’s were most decidedly not. At the time, it had been amusing to hear about Potter’s punishment of writing lines in his own blood, but in the years since the Dark Lord’s fall, he’d done a complete about-face in his beliefs in such draconian methods.

The irony of his name at the root of the word was not lost on him.

Hermione in fifth year was very involved with the little Defense group Potter had put together. If he remembered a conversation he’d had with her a few years before—Merlin, it was confusing trying to keep it all straight—she had been the one to suggest it. They’d worked together on Defense spells since Umbridge refused to teach them anything. At the time, Draco had been torn between wanting to be seen supporting Umbridge while also not wanting to fail his O.W.L. exams. 

It hadn’t happened yet at this point, but he’d never forgotten the way Hermione had manipulated Umbridge when she and her friends had been caught in Umbridge’s office. At the time, he’d believed her to be weak, _crying_ for Merlin’s sake because they’d been found out. Later, when a fuller picture had been revealed to him, he’d been grudgingly impressed—and not for the first time.

Nothing special stood out in his mind about the date, so he dressed and got ready to go up to breakfast. Hermione had said he should find her, but they hadn’t discussed when or where—though, considering the previous two years they’d met in the library, that was a pretty safe bet. Still, he didn’t want to spend the entire day cooped up inside with nothing to do but wait. 

With single-minded determination, Draco headed for the Great Hall. If nothing else, he’d see Hermione at breakfast and maybe get some kind of clue for when she could talk. He’d passed his broom on the way out of his dorm. It was a beautiful day; he decided he’d go flying later. 

“Draco!” 

He froze, a flood of memories hitting him all at once. When he turned around, Pansy Parkinson, his girlfriend, was hurrying to join him. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. 

Pansy looped her arm through his. “Going to breakfast? I’ll join you.” 

It felt extremely strange to be at Pansy’s side. He was so used to seeing her with her husband, Percy Weasley, that his first instinct had been to push her away. But that wouldn’t do; he couldn’t raise any suspicions that might endanger his past self.

“I’m going flying after breakfast,” he told her, abruptly making the decision. It was something that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, and he loved doing it. He’d be able to maximize his time away from his friends where he was most likely to slip up and act in a way that didn’t fit with who he was at fifteen. 

“You said you’d help me with Transfiguration.” She pouted and lowered her voice as she leaned close. “We were going to work on Transfiguring my shirt into a handkerchief. While I’m wearing it. Remember?”

“Er, yeah, of course. But not right after breakfast!” He blushed furiously and glanced around, hoping nobody had heard. Merlin, he remembered doing that. And a whole host of other things he desperately wanted to avoid for the day. He didn’t see Hermione at the Gryffindor table yet, but he sat where he could watch and wait for her to arrive.

“All right. Later then?” Pansy slid onto the bench beside him, sitting so close their thighs were touching. 

Draco shrugged, using the movement to inch away from her a bit. “We’ll see. I’ve remembered something that might keep me in the library most of the night.” He was grateful that he was enrolled in a number of classes that Pansy was not. 

“You and that library.” Pansy rolled her eyes as she buttered a piece of toast. “You’re nearly as bad as Granger.”

“It’s hardly my fault that I want to do well on exams.” This was a conversation he’d had multiple times, both with her and his other friends in fifth year. His father, particularly, had demanded that he perform to the highest standard possible. Draco winced at the memory of how his father had reacted upon hearing that Hermione had bested him in almost everything—again. “You know what my father will say if I come home with poor results.”

She pursed her lips and said nothing. 

Draco made himself a plate, counting the seconds until he could be free of Pansy. He’d just started eating when Hermione arrived, and she looked directly at him. He let the barest hint of a smile curve his lips and she nodded her head once, then broke eye contact. 

He felt immensely better. 

After breakfast, he shook Pansy off in the common room and ran to his room. His broom was right where he always left it under his bed. Draco grabbed it and hurried out before anyone could stop him. 

It was a lovely spring day, sunny yet chilly with just a hint of warmth in the air; it was perfect flying weather. Draco hadn’t been on a broom in years—not for fun, at least. He really ought to accept an invitation to play a pick-up game of Quidditch if he ever figured out of this strange time travel adventure he was on. 

Flying was the best thing he could have done that morning. He hadn’t flown like that—truly flown, just for the sheer pleasure of it—in longer than he could remember. He needed to make it a priority. For all of his father’s interference and machinations to secure his spot on the Quidditch team, he truly loved flying. 

He spent the entire morning outside and only came in when he absolutely knew lunch was almost finished being served. His first instinct was to shower off, but then he thought if he stayed nasty, pansy might give him some space.

It worked. 

She patted the seat beside her when he entered the hall. He sat down, broom in hand, and grinned.

She leaned over to kiss him, but he turned so that she only got his cheek. Her nose crinkled when she pulled away. “Ew! Since when do you come to meals sweaty and smelly?”

Draco shrugged and started piling food onto his plate. “Lost track of time. Really hungry.”

A few times during the meal, she seemed to forget that he was gross and moved closer, only to give him a very offended look and scoot away again. 

“You’ll shower immediately after this, right?”

He frowned, chewing thoughtfully. Naturally he felt disgusting and wanted to get clean but he also wanted to avoid Pansy. Then he thought of the showers by the Pitch. “Yes. Of course. But then I’ve got some school work to do.”

Pansy made a face for a moment, then brightened. “I’ll come with you! I’ve got a little bit of Charms homework to finish. I suppose I should do an assignment every now and then.” 

Draco groaned inwardly. He remembered what study sessions in the library with Pansy had often turned into. “Fine, but I mean it, Pansy. I’ve got something big to research, and I can’t be messing around.” Then he had a brilliant thought. “How about this, tomorrow we’ll do everything you wanted to do today, if I can just have the rest of today to focus. If I don’t, I’ll be forced to keep working tomorrow when I’d much rather spend the whole day with you.”

She made another pouting face—she was a master of them—then huffed. “So I won’t see you again at all today?”

He sighed dramatically. “I can’t really say. This is a big thing I let skip and I need to get it done. It’s for Snape. A special Potions project.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why he has to give you such difficult projects. Nobody else gets them.”

“I think it’s part of his effort to help me do better than Granger.” Draco shrugged. “Pretty sure my father asked him to do it. Can’t stand the thought of me always being second to her.”

“She’s _so_ pathetic. At least she doesn’t bother trying to show off in Potions anymore.” Pansy glanced over at the Gryffindor table and Draco followed her gaze. Hermione was in conversation with Weasley. “I wish she’d just... marry that blood traitor loser already and start popping out Weasley spawn. That would shut her right up.”

Draco nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. In _his_ present, Pansy was currently pregnant with her third ‘Weasley spawn.’ 

He steered the conversation away from Hermione for the rest of the meal, then bid Pansy goodbye so he could shower. He had the idea to pocket some food for later, as he hoped to avoid coming back for dinner. In the entrance hall, Draco decided to use his dorm bathroom for convenience instead of the Quidditch showers. Once he was clean again, he gathered some books and supplies and made for the door.

Blaise and Theo were playing a game of chess in the common room when he emerged. For an instant, Draco had an overwhelming desire to thrash Theo. He had no idea if he could, as the other boy was slightly bigger than him, but it would feel good no matter what.

“Draco!” Blaise waved him over but didn’t take his eyes off the board. “Come join us.”

“Can’t.” He held up the stack in his arms. “Potions assignment.”

Theo spun round to look at him curiously. “Oh, you can take a few hours off. It won’t hurt.”

Why didn’t anybody want him to study? Oh, right, because he’d spent almost all of his free time in fifth year studying, and as the year neared its end, they tried to draw him out of his books. 

“Sorry, not today. Snape wants this done as soon as possible. It’s supposed to help me get an O on my O.W.L.”

Blaise frowned. “Why doesn’t Snape want to give anybody else extra help?”

“Speak for yourself.” Theo captured one of Blaise’s pawns with a smile. “I’ve done three extra essays for him. But then, I asked for extra work.”

“You two are taking this much too seriously.” Blaise made a face. “As if you’d ever have to actually work a day in your lives. What do you need O.W.L.s for?”

“My father.” Draco shrugged as though that was all that needed to be said.

Both Blaise and Theo grimaced. 

Blaise waved dismissively, his attention back fully on the game. “Right, then. Maybe we’ll see you in June once exams are over.” 

Draco continued on his way. Thanks to being a Prefect and a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, nobody bothered him. 

The library was perfectly quiet, an extreme contrast to the Great Hall, and Draco took a moment to breathe in the silence. First, he checked the table where he usually sat with Hermione, and when he saw she wasn’t there, he took one near the door. He didn’t really expect her anytime soon, but it was the only way he could think to get away from his classmates—most particularly Pansy. 

Draco found a few novels to read, but then realized he could use the time to figure out just what Theo had done to snatch the company from him. He pulled out books on Wizarding Business Law and set to reading. 

The afternoon passed quietly and surprisingly quickly. His stomach alerted him that dinner time was upon him, and he fished out the snacks he’d taken earlier: an apple, a roll, and some sausages. It wasn’t much, but it would do. 

Another hour passed before he started to regret his decision to skip dinner. The light fare he’d brought wasn’t enough to satisfy the hunger of a growing young man, something he hadn’t considered. 

Just when he’d decided to raid the kitchens—an unwanted delay wherein he might miss Hermione—she walked through the door. Their eyes met, and she continued walking toward their usual table. 

He smiled slightly to himself at the thought; it was endlessly amusing that he had a ‘usual table’ with Hermione Granger in the Hogwarts library. As fifteen, he’d have been cursed to within an inch of his life if his father found out. 

After waiting ten minutes, he gathered his things and went into the stacks, pretending to look for new books. After wandering for some time, he finally reached their table. 

Hermione looked up upon his approach and hastily cast a series of spells designed to keep people away. She smiled tentatively, and he finally felt like he could relax. 

“Hey,” he said, flopping down across from her. 

“It is... _you_ , isn’t it?” She eyed him warily.

“Yes, it’s me.”

Her apprehension disappeared and she pulled a little package from her bag. “I noticed you weren’t at dinner, so I brought you some food.”

Draco’s eyes lit up and he reached for the package. “Merlin, thank you! I was about to go ‘discover’ the kitchen for the first time.” She’d brought him a little plate of roast beef, potatoes, mixed vegetables, _and_ a generous helping of strawberry tart. “This looks incredible.”

“Good.” Hermione set about unpacking her books. “I take it our theory was correct then?”

“Yes. I went to sleep in fourth year and woke up in fifth. It’s awfully bizarre. I can easily observe the changes in myself from year to year. Growing taller, stronger, all that. It’s very interesting to see it in others too.” Draco started with the tart because that was who he was. 

Hermione raised an amused eyebrow but didn’t comment on it. “Have you been trying to solve the mystery today?”

“Er, not really, no. I sort of got into some other research. For my business.”

“Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “In your time, you mean?” 

He nodded, savoring his last bite of tart. 

“It’s so strange to think you are so much older than you look.”

“Hey! I’m not ‘so much older!’“ He threw a crumb at her.

Hermione shrieked in surprise, then threw it back. 

“Careful.” Draco grinned. “Pince won’t approve of noise, even from you.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re twice as old, really, than you appear right now.”

Draco started to say something but stopped and sighed. She was right. He had fifteen more years to go until he caught up to his real time. 

“So what _did_ you do today?” Hermione asked.

“Spent all morning flying and all afternoon here. I couldn’t skip every meal, so I spent those trying to keep Pansy off.” 

Hermione looked at him curiously. “You were with her fifth year, I presume? I mean, it looks like it, but you never really know.”

Draco chuckled. “Yes, we were together fifth.”

“Are you with her still? You know, in the future?”

He hesitated but then doubted this information would matter much. “No. We, uh, both married other people.”

Her eyes widened and she looked away. After a moment, she lifted her hands to her cheeks and let out a strangled sigh. “This is so strange. Every day you’re the Draco I know—nasty, evil, mean, hateful—then on this one day a year, you still look like him, but you’re completely different. I suppose this is… who you become?”

Draco studied her. It was weird for him, too, being back in his fifteen-year-old body, with all of its… _urges_ , while having the thoughts and cares of someone who’d seen thirty winters. He was stuck with the impulsive brain of someone fifteen, but the maturity of thought of someone thirty. So far, it had served him well, and his brain would only continue to mature as the years— _days_ —passed. 

It was also strange conversing with Hermione. They weren’t particularly friendly in the future, though she was one of Scorpius’s teachers—his favorite, apparently. Their conversations over the last few years had been primarily centered around his son’s school and the things Scorpius did there. He’d always found her interesting, always felt like there was so much they could discuss if given the opportunity—almost as though they kept getting interrupted just when things were getting good. And, yes, lately, he’d felt other things for her, just the very beginning of something, the stirrings of attraction, perhaps. 

But that had all been pointless, as he’d been locked in an iron-clad marriage contract with no happiness or end in sight. With the discovery of Astoria’s indiscretion, a whole new future was open to him now—assuming he could get _back_ to the future and stay there.

This Hermione, however, was not quite the one he was interested in. There were differences—subtle, but significant. This Hermione didn’t laugh as easily and seemed wound rather tight. He liked her, enough to wish that his entire life might have been different in such a way as to have allowed him to have been friends with her, but the Hermione in his future was the woman he was interested in. 

“Draco?”

He started, drawing a light chuckle from her. “Sorry. Um, got distracted.”

“I was remarking on how different you are from the person you were. Or are. Oh, it’s all so hard to keep straight sometimes!” She shook her head, her wild, bushy curls whipping around.

“You’re telling me. Apparently, I’ve got the pleasure of waking up every day a full year older. Talk about keeping things straight.” 

They settled into a comfortable silence. After a moment, Hermione picked up her quill. “What will you do tomorrow?”

Draco shrugged. “I’ve no clue what happened every year of my life on the 26th of April. I suppose I’ll just wait and see.” A weight of dread settled in his stomach at the realization that the next time he woke up, he’d bear that horrible Mark and be deeply entrenched in his task for the Dark Lord. Maybe he shouldn’t even try to see Hermione next year.

“What are you going to do right now? Because I’ve got O.W.L.s in a little over a month, and I don’t fancy failing them.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like that’s a big concern for me today.”

“Ooh, do you know _my_ results, by chance?” She leaned forward, her eyes wild with excitement at the thought.

“Of course not! I do know that I achieved nine Outstanding O.W.L.s.”

She pursed her lips. “Right, then. I’ll accept no fewer than nine.”

He smirked. “Good luck.” 

There’d been one book on law that he hadn’t been able to finish earlier, so he took that one off the top of his small stack and opened it.

Hermione stopped writing. “You’re going to stay here?”

“If it’s all right with you. I don’t fancy bumping into Pansy if I can help it. You’ve no idea how hard it is to pretend not to be revolted whenever she touches me.”

She laughed. “I don’t know if I could manage it!” Her laughter subsided, her lips falling into an easy smile. “Stay as long as you like, just don’t bother me. And I hope you’ll come and see me next year so I can gloat about beating you on the exams!”

* * *

* * *

**4.26.97**

When Draco woke, he didn’t have any doubts as to where—or when—he was. He immediately felt sick, likely from whatever concoction of potions his past self had taken the night before to force him into sleep. His clothes hung limply from his frame, and he could easily feel his ribs. He knew that if he looked in a mirror, he’d see a young man who was wasting away from stress and exhaustion. 

Well, he’d do himself a favor and eat really well today. 

At least there would be no Pansy to avoid, as things between them had ended before Christmas. She’d grown tired of his increasingly bad temper and put an end to the relationship—not that he’d cared. He was past the point in the year when he’d stopped caring about anything. His attempts to repair the cabinet so far had failed, thankfully, but his allotted time for finishing the task was almost up. 

Draco got up and dressed for breakfast. He ate as much as his body could handle, considering the damage that had been done to it, but he still felt exhausted afterwards. He’d made eye contact with Hermione once, her eyes filled with alarm, and he knew he’d have to fend off her questions later. 

Not bothering with classes, he went back to his room and quickly fell asleep.

****

ooo

The sun had traveled far by the time he woke again. It was still the same day. He hadn’t even considered that going to sleep might propel him forward in time, but it would appear that he had to complete a full day in this… whatever it was.

He felt loads better but also hungry again. A glance at his watch told him that if he ran, he could just manage to get a decent lunch in. So he did, surprising everyone who saw him. 

Greg and Vince approached him while he was filling his plate. 

“Er, Draco? You want us to, um, watch anything for you today?” They exchanged a glance as he shoveled food into his mouth. 

“No. Take the day off. I am.”

They left without another word.

Blaise, who’d been on his way out of the hall, turned back and came to sit across from him. “Don’t worry, there will be more tonight.”

“Ha, ha.” Draco took a long, refreshing drink of pumpkin juice. Eating had never felt so good in all his life. 

“I’ll admit you’ve been looking pretty rough lately. Hopefully whatever’s had you wound so tightly has… settled down.” Blaise knew enough about Draco’s task to know that it hadn’t been going well. He was glad he’d never told his friend the full truth. 

Draco shook his head. “I’m right where I was last night. Just thought I could use a break.”

Blaise nodded, then made a face at something over Draco’s shoulder. “What does _she_ want?”

Draco turned around, surprised to see Hermione standing near the end of the table, wringing her hands and biting her lip. She was looking their way as though steeling herself to come closer. He tried to tell her to go away with his eyes, but she set her jaw and walked towards them.

Blaise whistled lowly; a Gryffindor approaching the Slytherin table was basically unheard of. Granted, the Great Hall was now nearly empty, but still. Draco’s heart started pounding.

“You lost, Granger?” Blaise sneered at her.

Hermione held her head high and looked at Draco. “Vector wants to see you.”

“What? Now?” He’d either missed a class or this was her way of making sure he spoke to her. 

“Yes. She sent me directly. She’s in her office.”

Hermione turned and walked away. _Huh_. He’d tell his Arithmancy teacher he wasn’t feeling well, which was largely true. 

“Guess I’d better go. After I finish eating of course.”

Blaise was watching Hermione walk away with a very different sort of look than the one he’d allowed her to see.

Draco remembered that Blaise had first confessed his attraction to Ginny Weasley in sixth. “Thought you fancied Red.” He said it casually but was anxious to learn if his friend had also harbored something for Hermione. 

“Fancy is a strong word for it. And I’m only looking. These school robes cover everything interesting. I’d much rather they covered her face and that awful hair.” Blaise chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Granger in class with her robes up over her head? Maybe she’s hiding something worth looking at.” 

Draco shoveled some more food into his mouth and grinned. It was a mild reaction for him, but if he’d responded the way he wanted—punching Blaise in his smug face—that might have raised some eyebrows.

“Well, I should go see Vector.” He crammed a few apples into his pockets and stood. 

“I hope this task is done soon. You aren’t as much fun as you used to be.” Blaise sent him a concerned look, then walked away.

Draco sighed in relief, then took a bite of one of the apples and headed out of the Great Hall.

He was nearly to the Arithmancy classroom when someone reached out of a doorway as he passed, grabbed his robes, and pulled him in.

Draco scrambled to find his wand only to discover that his attacker was none other than Hermione. “Shit, Hermione. You scared me!”

“Sorry!” She didn’t look sorry at all, only extremely anxious. “What’s going on, Draco? I’ve been waiting all year to talk to you. You look bloody awful now, and Harry thinks you’re up to something. Your sixth year self, anyway, but you can tell me, right? Obviously nothing horrible happens, since you seem well enough in the future, married and all that.”

She bit her lip and watched him anxiously. He faltered and, for the first time ever, seriously considered telling her everything. But even as his mind went through scenario after scenario of how to make it work, he knew he couldn’t do it. There was simply no telling the potentially catastrophic consequences of altering the timeline. He might completely cease to exist, which he wasn’t too keen on.

“I’m fine.” Draco forced a smile. “Just... tired. I dealt with a lot of pressure from home sixth year. Since, you know, I didn’t beat you in O.W.L. exams.”

She relaxed slightly, enough to give him a small smile. “I got nine Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations.”

“Congratulations. My father never told me your results, he just found out from someone at the Ministry—greased a few palms, you know. Before… before he was arrested. He sent me a highly displeased letter about it.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” She seemed slightly uncomfortable, and he remembered that she had fought against his father in the Department of Mysteries. 

Draco sank into a chair, feeling deflated. “Yeah, er, I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt last year.”

She sighed, a hand going absently to her side. “It’s something of a miracle we all made it out of there alive. All us kids, anyway.” Her tone ended in a whisper.

He remembered hearing that his mother’s cousin, Sirius Black, had been killed in the battle by his Aunt. Then, his eyes widened as he made the connection between the story she’d told him in fourth year and the news about Black. “Oh, wow. That was Potter’s godfather, yeah? I just realized.”

Hermione cut her eyes sharply to him, then her expression softened. “Yes. Harry only knew him for two short years.” 

There didn’t seem to be much to say. Draco glanced around the room for some idea of what to talk about. “How is your year going?”

Hermione locked the classroom so no one would interrupt them. “It’s... going fine. Ron is being an idiot.”

Draco snorted, unable to stop himself. 

“It would seem nothing has changed in that department in the future.” She peered at him, clearly interested to know more. 

“Careful, Granger. It’s dangerous to know too much.” 

“I know.” She sighed. “I can’t help it. You’re experiencing something... Well, something incredible! You should write a book about it.”

He snorted. “Who’d want to read that?”

“I would,” she said immediately.

“You already know practically everything.”

“I don’t know anything about what you’re going through. You can’t tell me how you’re feeling, what you’re struggling with, what’s hard about this whole thing. I’d imagine it would be so tempting to change something, even something little, just to see what happens.”

“I have changed one thing,” he said quietly, scratching at something on the desk. 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh? What is it?”

“I told you what’s happening. So far, it’s been okay.” He took a deep breath. “But if you think about it, it’s a huge risk. I had no idea what was going on, of course. I thought, third year, it was a simple matter of figuring out what happened and reversing it, but then I woke up in fourth year, and… everything is so strange.” He let out a strangled laugh and dragged his hand through his hair. “I still don’t even know if any of this is real.”

Hermione put her hand on his too thin arm. It was warm through his robes, and the slight pressure grounded him. “This seems real to me.”

Draco nodded dully. “I should... I should go.”

“What will you do tonight?”

“Probably sleep. My past self doesn’t get enough. Sleep, eat, sleep again. Then wake up in seventh year.” He forced a smile and tried not to concern himself with what _that_ would entail. Or if he’d ever see Hermione again.

She retracted her arm and smiled. “Well, I’ll see you in seventh year, then, won’t I?”

Draco tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah, I’ll, um, see you. Oh, do I really need to see Vector? Or was that just a rouse?”

“No, she wanted to see you. I offered to come find you after class.” She waited a beat, then words practically poured from her. “Draco, is there something you want to tell me?”

He forced the grimace into a real smile, hating the fact that he now had to lie to her. “There’s nothing I can tell you, Hermione. Have a good year.” 

He couldn’t spend another moment in her presence, even though he wanted to stay there all day. Being with her, the long evenings in the library or the short time in the classroom, were the only times he felt relatively calm. The unknowns about what was happening to him were enough to threaten to swallow him whole.

Draco waved before going through the door. It felt entirely too final; he knew he wouldn’t see her seventh year. He had no reason to think he’d ever see her again, really. Not until she stopped by his office when Scorpius was young to personally invite their family to join the new school she was starting.

He was too restless to sleep after all, so he went flying instead. This time, though, he tried to spend time alone with his thoughts—both remembering his sixth year and thinking about his future. He had to plan for whatever might happen; he couldn’t arrive back in his own time without making some decisions. He hadn’t wanted to make plans before because he had no way of knowing if it would even matter, but now he needed something to focus on to take his mind off waiting for the end of the day.

He’d already decided on divorcing Astoria. He’d stay at the Manor with Scorpius and see about inviting his mother to live with him permanently. Or at least come often and stay for long stretches of time. He couldn’t really sort that out now.

He tried to think of his career options but found it oddly hard to focus. His thoughts kept straying to Hermione and what her reaction would be once everything that was going to happen actually happened. 

Would she hate him again? Would she remember the man he’d become, the one who had spent a small part of four days with her? 

No. There was nothing good that could come from the restlessness he felt. Draco decided to fly hard after all, hoping to exhaust himself so much that he could fall asleep soon after dinner.

* * *

* * *

**4.26.98**

The day dawned with remarkable beauty as sunlight streamed through the curtains in Draco’s room. At least he had a private room, since Snape had made him Head Boy. Draco woke feeling drained, likely a result of whatever the Carrows had put him through the day before. Being Head Boy gave him a little protection from their wrath, but not enough. 

Draco checked his calendar, relieved beyond words to see that this year, April 26th had fallen on a Sunday. Nobody would need him. 

As he lay in bed, he stared at the ceiling, trying to think back to the events happening in this timeline. The days of his seventh year had blended together, one awful event following another. Even Quidditch had been horrible, though he’d continued playing since it was his only reprieve from the daily horrors. When he was flying, he could pretend that things were normal. Slytherin had been on track to win the Quidditch Championship, but considering how depleted the other three houses were, it wasn’t surprising. 

Inevitably, his thoughts turned to Hermione. It had only been a month since he’d had to bear witness to his aunt’s cruelty toward her. Even now, he remembered the scene with a grimace. He wondered what she was doing right that moment. He knew from reading about her time away from Hogwarts that she, Potter, and Weasley had worked to bring down the Dark Lord, but none of the articles had mentioned any details. He still had no idea how Potter won, almost thirteen years after it had happened. All he knew for certain was that his mother had played a pivotal role, one so important that she had avoided any prison time and actually been given an Order of Merlin Third Class. That recognition had trickled down to Draco, resulting in a relatively short prison sentence followed by a long probation.

With a groan, he realized he’d wake up next year in Azkaban. Reliving a day there was truly a nightmare, but he could at least be thankful the Dementors were long gone.

Over the course of the year, Draco had taken to stashing food whenever he got the chance. Some of the teachers liked to use withholding meals as punishment and there was nobody they liked to punish more than him. He felt reasonably sure that he could stay in his room the whole day, only leaving to use the loo, which was just down the hall.

And that’s just what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed this brief journey through Draco's Hogwarts years. Next up: AZKABAN! And everything that follows. I've also decided to bump up the updates to Thursdays instead of Fridays. Figured nobody would mind terribly.


	3. Can't Change the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many endless thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione, for the beta work and general awesomeness. As you may remember, this story was written for the Dramione RomCom Fest, but I also worked on this during a month-long challenge at Dramione Fanfiction Writers group on Facebook. That challenge was WIP-tember, a challenge for people to work on WIPs. I managed to complete this story during September, and I was given the beautiful graphic you see here, by QuinTalon, as a prize! 
> 
> Chapter title comes from the song "Rushing Back" by flume. Story inspired by "13 Going on 30."
> 
>   
> 

**4.26.99**

The first thing Draco noticed upon waking the next day was the ache in his back. He cracked his eyes open and saw nothing but gray—gray ceiling, gray walls, gray floor.  
_  
Right._

Azkaban.

He sighed heavily and tried to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep. After fifteen minutes or so, he gave up. He remembered that he didn't get a single good night's sleep while in prison and resigned himself to being tired all day.

No matter. It was only one day; he'd lived through nine months of it before, he could get through one more day.

The worst thing about Azkaban had been all the time he'd spent alone with nothing more than his own thoughts for company. At least today, his own company would be more enjoyable than it had been in the past. Back then, he'd been wrestling with everything from his childhood—with Harry Potter, the boy he'd tried to destroy, speaking up for his mother and then again for him. He'd spent a long time trying to reconcile what his father had told him and the reality of the aftermath of the war.

Breakfast was served promptly at eight, and Draco forced himself to swallow every bite. His past self had a tendency to wallow in self-pity and skip meals out of some pointless desire for some kind of control, but he really needed a good, solid meal in him.

Halfway through, Draco remembered that his mother had brought him a book for Christmas, and he gleefully went to his mattress, slipped his hand under it, and fished out the book. It was an old Muggle book, as absolutely nothing magical was allowed in, but it had been an excellent choice. He'd always wondered why she'd given him this particular book—Crime and Punishment—but by the time he was released, he had forgotten to ask.

Now, though, he looked forward to spending the day rereading it.

Sometime after lunch—everything ran together in prison—a knock sounded on his cell door, indicating that someone would be entering.

Draco peered up at the guard who shuffled in.

"Mr. Malfoy. You've got a visitor."

He tried not to look too surprised or excited. What were the chances he'd had a visitor on April 26th? It could only be his mother; nobody else had visited him over the nine months of his sentence. Still, it was far better than nothing.

The guard bound his wrists with magical rope so that he couldn't use his arms. Then, at wand point, he led Draco from his cell.

The visiting room was a large room with guards stationed all around the perimeter. The main space was occupied with tables and chairs for prisoners and their guests. He was considered a non-violent prisoner and, as such, he was able to meet his mother in the open, sunny room. He loved seeing the sunlight streaming through the windows.

But the guard walked past the visiting room. Draco knew better than to question him, so he followed in silence to a different room two doors beyond where he'd thought they were headed.

"In here." The guard pushed Draco through, removed the restraints, and locked him in.

This room was much smaller, but the setup was essentially the same: a table in the middle of the room, two chairs on either side of it. Draco rubbed his wrists automatically and sat in the chair on his side of the room. This was different, but he didn't think much of it. At least there was still a window.

He'd tucked his book into his prison robes and now pulled it out to read while he waited. When the door opened, he placed his bookmark and looked up to greet his mother.

Only it wasn't his mother.

Hermione Granger walked in with a steely, determined look on her face.

Draco didn't bother trying to stop his smile from forming

When the door shut, leaving them completely alone, she finally looked at him. His smile faltered.

She didn't move away from the door, as though she might run through it at any second.

"I told myself I wasn't going to come."

Draco sighed. "I wouldn't have blamed you for not."

Indecision danced in her expression before settling into something like resolve. "In the end, though, I simply couldn't stay away. You owe me some answers."

Draco motioned to the chair opposite him. "I don't know about that, but I'm happy to hear your questions."

Hermione walked regally across the small room and sat down, her wand gripped firmly in one hand.

That stung more than he'd thought possible, and he scowled at the thin piece of wood. He knew the guards had made a very special exception for her; usually visitors had to hand over their wands lest prisoners get hold of one. He didn't think they'd suddenly started trusting him.

She looked... Well, older than the last time he'd seen her. There was a certain gravity to her now that he knew she'd gained from the war.

When it seemed she wasn't going to speak after all, Draco held his hands out, palms up. "What would you like to know?"

Her gaze flitted everywhere around the room before she flicked her eyes to meet his for an instant. Then she looked at her hands, wrapped around her wand and resting on the table. "I... I need to understand. I had been under the impression, misguided though it now seems, that we were... friends. Of a sort." She took a shaky breath. "So I don't... I don't understand what happened."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean." So many things had happened since he last saw her.

"I waited for you!" Her eyes flashed at him now, raw magic crackling dangerously. "Every day! After... Dumbledore, I thought I understood everything—that you had made a huge mistake and you recognized that. I thought it was only a matter of time before you would come!"

"Come where?" He frowned, bewildered, but then he realized what she meant. "You mean join the Order?" He shook his head. "No."

"Then tell me! Why not?" She set her wand on the table, a testament to the fact that she did trust him, after all.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "You expected me to leave my parents and join your side?"

"Yes!" She huffed. "Well, I… I thought... _this_ version of you, the one I have spent a little bit of time with, started growing during the war! I kept... waiting for _you_ to show up!" She was practically shouting so she lowered her voice, but she was unable to keep the venom out of her tone. "You aren't the man I thought you were."

Draco felt her words like a physical blow but he tried not to take them personally. He kept his voice calm and even. "Not at seventeen, no. My journey to becoming who I am today _did_ begin during the war, before even, but not in the way you expected. My role was not to be a hero. Or a spy. Or any such romantic notion. My path led straight into the worst parts of the war, and I came through in spite of my bad choices. A person can make all the wrong choices, pick the wrong side, and still not be doomed to a life of wrong."

She bit her lip, her expression determined. "I expected every day that you might come. It was the right thing to do!"

"Maybe in your mind! But it would have been wrong to leave my parents!" He'd had the benefit of many years to look back on the war, on everything before and through it, so he was ready with his defense.

"They made their choice!"

"And I couldn't choose to leave them to die." He felt no need to raise his voice to match hers. He'd had all of these arguments with himself many times over already. "I thought about it, Hermione. I considered the Order, especially after Dumbledore said they could protect me, but then I kept coming back to the fact that he'd died. Right in front of me. How could he really help me, what could he do? My father was disgraced and wandless, my mother a slave in her own home. Running away would have been a death sentence to them. The Dark Lord would have used them as an example to all young people whose parents were involved: if you try to run, everyone you love will die. Is that truly what you expected me to do?"

"I... No, I only... I only thought that you would!" She let out an exasperated huff. "It's not that I wanted you to—I mean, I did, or at least, to join us—but because of who you are now, I expected it! I thought, in your past, that you turned and helped us, and that's why we're friendly in the future, that's why you call me Hermione! And I was bitterly disappointed when you never showed up."

"I can't help that. I had to do what I did. My choices then did shape who I became, who I am now. I didn't follow the path you expected, though, and I cannot apologize for that."

She was quiet for a long moment, the wheels of her mind spinning so loudly he could practically hear them turn. "All right then. When we talked. Sixth year. Why didn't you tell me about any of it? Why didn't you warn me that you were plotting against Dumbledore?"

This was a question he hadn't spent nearly as much time on, but he felt just as sure of his decision. "You know the answer, Hermione. You know how tricky time is. I couldn't take even the slightest risk that something might change. Knowing that it was my mother's lie that directly led to Potter's victory, how could I risk changing anything?"

She seemed ready to explore, to rage, to reach over the table and slap him as she'd once done. Her hands were balled into fists and her lips were thinned into a line. But she didn't do anything. After a moment, she deflated, and her shoulders slumped slightly.

"Thank you. I needed to hear all of that. I've been so angry with you, so disappointed, for so long, that I couldn't even think about the ramifications of you telling me the truth. I felt so deceived, both by your... act—" She waved her hand in his direction. " _And_ your omission. You led me to believe I would see you seventh year, that school would be normal, things would continue... But then you were the architect of Dumbledore's death!"

Draco spread his hands again. "That's why I'm in here. You're completely right. I made some impossible choices that I'll spend the rest of my life fighting, knowing I should regret some of them, because I could have chosen differently, but knowing I did my best at the time. You try living with _him_ under your roof and tell me you'd have done better."

Hermione let out a shaky breath. "I almost didn't come today because of how disappointed I've been, but I'm so glad I did." She smiled tentatively. "I'm sorry for... for doubting you, for all the horrible thoughts I've had towards you, for expecting you to act the way I would have wanted without considering the costs to you."

"You've nothing to apologize for, Hermione. You don't owe me anything." He nearly reached for her hand, hoping to give her some comfort, some sense of the weight of gratitude he felt for her right then. But he didn't know if his gesture would be welcome.

She shifted in her seat, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. It promptly came loose. "I considered you my friend. This future you, I mean. Are we friends?"

He shrugged. "Our paths didn't cross for a long time after the war. We are... Friendly. When we see each other."

She nodded once. "As a friend, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.'

Draco leaned across the table, making sure to capture and hold her gaze. "Like I said, you don't owe me anything. We've spent a few hours together over the course of the last five years. You were completely within your rights to doubt me. You've been too generous coming here today, spending any energy at all on me."

"You're wrong." She stuck her chin out defiantly. "I find this version of you to be fascinating, and it sounds like you don't think very highly of yourself."

"I still have many wrongs for which to atone." He frowned, considering her words. A quick search of his memories showed him that she was absolutely right in her assessment of him: he didn't have a high opinion of himself.

"And you're paying your dues. Right now, in prison. Once that's done, you'll be able to get to the business of your life."

Draco chuckled darkly, remembering his train of thought on the day this time hopping mess began. His life had been miserable with very few good things in it, and by the end of the day, only one thing remained.

The day had begun with him married, at least technically; he'd been the head of a powerful, successful business; he'd had a son he adored more than anything.

Now, the only thing left in his life was Scorpius.

He would divorce Astoria, which would likely drag his family into the spotlight once more, where any and all would be free to speculate and judge. Theo had somehow stolen his company, which would send many smaller businesses connected with his into uncertainty at best, ruin at worst. There was no telling what Theo wanted with it, what he planned to do.

Draco was suddenly bereft of a future with no plans for what he might do instead.

If anything, his self-esteem, his confidence, should be much, much lower than it had ever been before.

In reality, however, he felt... almost good. He had a purpose now, if only to figure out what had happened and how he could fix it. That wasn't happening today at any rate, and he felt a little thankful for the reprieve. Granted, the focus of his previous few days had been not screwing up the timeline, and now that he'd managed that, he could focus on this time jumping problem.

"What will you do next year?" Hermione asked. "You know, on April 26th."

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I'll be getting out of here before too long—they'll release me before my birthday in June. Then I believe I will sit for my N.E.W.T.s, since I hadn't taken them before the Final Battle, and the aftermath was too chaotic, plus I'd been arrested and charged. After that…" He groaned as the memories surfaced. "Ah. I believe next year I'll either be courting my wife or just about to start."

Hermione's eyes widened and she quickly glanced down at the table. "Oh. Um, well, that sounds fun."

Draco snorted and leaned back in his chair. He almost launched into an explanation of why he was dreading reliving it all but stopped himself. Just like he couldn't let anything happen to jeopardize the outcome of the war, he wouldn't risk anything preventing him from marrying Astoria and having his son.

A knock sounded on the door and they both jumped.

"That means I haven't got much time." Hermione leaned forward, folding her hands on the table. "There's so much more I wanted to say. I've been doing some research, despite being upset, trying to figure out what's happened to you. I even used my influence with the Minister to get access to an Unspeakable who studies time in the Department of Mysteries. We met, and she said she'd get back to me, but that was only a few weeks ago. I'm sure she's really busy." Hermione reached into a beaded bag he hadn't noticed before and pulled out a book. "There's an old wizarding fairy tale in here, and the heroine has an experience that sounds similar to what you're going through."

Draco took the book and looked at the cover. _Wizarding Tales of Yore_. He could tell it was old; the edges were yellowed, and for a wizarding book, that signified it was practically ancient. "I can't keep this. If my past self finds it in his cell, it will raise a lot of questions."

Hermione looked disappointed. "Oh, can't you read it quickly, then? It's very short. It starts on page forty-seven."

He opened to the table of contents and saw that the fairy tale in question was nearly twenty pages long. "I don't think so. Not with any sort of comprehension."

"Oh, bother. Well, I'll just tell you, and maybe next year you can find it in a library or something." Then her eyes went wide and she bounced in her seat. "Oh! No! I've got a better idea. We'll meet for breakfast next year, and I'll bring it with me! Then you can read it and look into it further!"

Draco's heart flipped in a familiar and troublesome manner at the hint of seeing Hermione again when he woke. The Hermione before him reminded him _more_ of the one from his time than the school-girl had, but it still wasn't her. This Hermione had years to go before she became the woman who started a school for young magical children, welcoming them from families both magical and Muggle. Her aims were to introduce muggle-born children to the wizarding world much earlier in life, and to give children born to wizarding families a chance to meet the children they would go to Hogwarts with while gaining some understanding of the Muggle world in return.

That woman, Scorpius's favorite teacher, was someone he very much wanted to know better.

Still, getting to know this version of her was nice.

"That sounds fine." His words were stiff, he knew, but only because he was trying so very hard not to show how pleased he was. "We should go somewhere Muggle; we can't run the risk of being seen together."

Her eyes widened. "Somewhere _Muggle?_ You... you go to Muggle places?"

"What?" He smirked. "Don't you?"

Her cheeks pinked prettily. "I—no of course—I was only—" She paused and gathered herself. "The Draco Malfoy I know would never stoop to visiting a Muggle establishment."

"Ah, but the Draco Malfoy you think you know in this time has always been an arse. He gets better, I assure you. Perhaps he's like a fine wine, growing deeper and richer with age." He shook his head. "Or he realized that Muggles make some amazing sweets and his disapproval couldn't extend as far as that. Have you ever had an Aero? Smarties? Or what about a deep-fried Mars?"

Hermione laughed. "All right, fair."

The guard outside pounded in the door again, more insistently than before.

"There's a café near my parents' old office in London. They serve delicious bangers and mash. Let's meet there at nine, next year."

Draco nodded. "Just tell me where to go."

She hurriedly scratched an address onto a piece of parchment. Draco did his best to memorize the information before she tucked it back into her bag.

"I'll be there at nine." He smiled. Hermione stood and Draco did as well. "Thank you for visiting. Really. It meant... a lot." He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Come to think of it, I don't remember you visiting, so I hope there aren't any major effects to the timeline."

"I've thought about that." Her eyes suddenly shone with excitement. "Oh, it's too bad you only have a day in each year, there's so much to talk about! Anyway, your past self doesn't remember because it isn't your past self I'm talking to!"

"But what happens to him on these days when I'm here instead?" Draco frowned. "Surely he'd have noticed gaps in his memory."

Hermione bit her lip. "That's a good question. Maybe you'll have a chance to ask someone."

The door opened and a very annoyed guard poked his head in. "Time is up, Miss."

"I'm coming!"

The guard glanced at Draco suspiciously, then shut the door.

Hermione tucked her wand away. "I'll see you in a year."

"And I will see you tomorrow." He grinned.

**ooo**

* * *

**4.26.00**  
  
Silk sheets.

Draco smiled even before opening his eyes. After trying to fall asleep on what could only be called a slab of rock, walking up in his own bed, with his own sheets, was glorious.

He stretched fully, ready to enjoy just lying in bed for a few minutes before he got up to meet Hermione. When his foot touched something warm under the sheets, he froze.

Eyes wide, he slowly turned his head to see what—or, more likely, whom—he had touched. He groaned inwardly at the sight of a beautiful witch with long, black hair asleep beside him; the was sheet down around her waist, exposing her bare upper body.

Shit.

He carefully glanced around the room, relieved to see that it wasn't his own. He could see some of his clothes strewn on the floor. His head was beginning to pound.

Lovely.

He needed to leave before the woman woke up; another look at her told him he didn't remember her name. But then, now that he thought about it, he _had_ gone through something of a phase in the months leading up to the official start of his courtship with Astoria. During said phase, he'd wanted to enjoy his freedom for as long as he possibly could, with as many people as he could.

Thankfully, that meant that what he'd done the night before hadn't been anything more than a one-off. Draco carefully slid out of the bed and hunted for his shorts. His trousers were easy to find at the foot of the bed and he saw his shirt by the door. His tie was, unfortunately, under the woman's head; he'd have to leave it. Only, maybe it was a very important tie! What if it played an important role in his life? Well, he'd decide what to do once he was ready to leave. He gathered the rest of his things and was almost done tying his shoes when the woman made a sound.

He looked up to find her watching him. "Um, morning. Er, any chance I could have my tie back?"

She narrowed her eyes and pulled the sheet up to cover herself. "You're leaving? You told me we'd be in bed all day!"

"Um… change of plans." Draco stood to his full height. "I have to go now."

The woman scoffed and grabbed his tie, wadded it up, then threw it at him. He tried not to cringe as the designer silk creased.

"Right, well, goodbye then."

He Disapparated without waiting for her reply.

**ooo**

He arrived in his own room and let a long sigh of relief. His peace didn't last long, however, because Kippy popped into his room mere seconds after he relaxed.

"The mistress is asking for you, Master Draco. She is in the breakfast room, Sir." Kippy bowed low and popped away.

Draco sighed. He showered as quickly as possible and got dressed for his breakfast with Hermione.

Narcissa was just finishing her tea when he walked in. She peered at him over the rim of her cup. "What was her name this time?"

Draco froze. "Um, excuse me?"

She let out a dramatic breath. "Don't play dumb, son. I know you didn't sleep here last night. Who she was doesn't really matter, but kindly remember that you begin courting Astoria within a fortnight. And it won't do for you to be sleeping around while that's going on."

He blushed, mortified to be having this conversation. "I remember, Mother. I will do my duty."

"Good. See that you do." Narcissa stood and smoothed her robes. "I'm having lunch with her mother today to finalize some things. I trust you'll behave tonight when we have dinner with them?"

Draco nearly choked on his tea. "Dinner with the Greengrasses?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "It's been scheduled for a month, Draco. Really, this inattention to detail is so unlike you. It's her birthday, remember? She's been given special permission to leave school for the evening, and we're meeting them at Hogsmeade at seven. We chose a beautiful, diamond bracelet from the family vault as a gift. She's going to be a Malfoy, so we might as well help her look the part."

"What time?" He checked his watch; he had ten minutes to meet Hermione.

"Seven-thirty, but we'll arrive together, so you must be home by seven to be sure you're properly dressed."

"Yes, Mother." Draco made a mental note to find his father's Pensieve. He needed to watch his memory of this evening to ensure he said everything perfectly. He stooped to kiss her cheek then started for the door.

"Draco," she called in her most obnoxiously suspicious voice. "Where are you in such a hurry to get to? Not another rendezvous, I hope?"

"No, just breakfast. And I don't want to be late. Goodbye, Mother."

Draco hurried away before she could call him back, then Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. He slipped through the door into Muggle London, then cursed as he remembered he didn't have any Muggle money with him.

He caught the attention of a taxi driver and gave him the address. He'd be late, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Hopefully she would wait for him.

When they arrived, twelve minutes after nine, Draco pretended to look for some money.

"Oh no, I don't have my wallet. Look, I'm meeting someone inside, let me run in and ask her to help." He didn't wait for a reply but rushed from the car and into the café.

Hermione was indeed there, watching him curiously. He hurried to her table.

"Hi. Quick. I don't have, um, the right change for the driver."

Hey eyes went wide and she quickly scrounged through her bag. She handed him a credit card, which he accepted gratefully.

He hurried outside, paid his bill, and apologized, then returned. When he sat down, he was winded.

"Thanks." He handed the card back to her. "I'll pay you back. I—tomorrow, I'll go to the bank first thing, then we can meet and I'll give it to you."

Hermione put her card away with an amused expression, then sipped from her cup of tea. "No need. I can handle a one-time taxi ride."

"I mean it. Let me pay you back."

The server came by, a harried-looking woman with light brown hair thrown up in a messy bun whose name tag read 'Olivia.' Once they'd both placed their orders and were alone again, Hermione handed him the book of fairy tales she'd shown him the day before. "I've read the tale in question at least a dozen times. I don't think it's exactly what you're experiencing, but it's awfully close."

Draco flipped to the table of contents. "I can read this now, I suppose."

"Oh, no need. Just send it back via owl before the end of the day."

He nodded and set the book aside, interested in what she'd found and noting that the book looked exactly the same as it had the day before, which meant she'd taken very good care of it in the year since she last saw him. Not that he'd expect anything less from her. .

"I bet it's exhausting, bouncing through time like you're doing. What's going on with your life right now?" She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.

Draco shrugged. "It's like I told you yesterday. At the end of the Hogwarts school year, I'm beginning an official courtship with… my future wife." He'd nearly slipped and said her name but caught himself just in time. It was crucial that he protect this part of his future just as fiercely as he'd protected the events surrounding the war. He couldn't risk something happening and Scorpius not being born. "At this point in my life, I'm… well, very much not… well, strictly speaking—" He felt his cheeks burn as he tried to say he was shagging anyone who'd let him in slightly more palatable terms.

She arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

The food arrived, and Olivia apologized for the wait. "We're a bit short-staffed this morning, but let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you." Hermione smiled at her.

Olivia smiled back, relief evident in her expression. "Enjoy your food."

Hermione waited until she was well out of earshot before continuing. "You're exploring your options?"

He let out his breath. "Er, something like that. While knowing that none of it matters and my marriage is set." He wondered what Hermione was thinking of him as he pushed the food around on his plate. "I didn't stray an inch once our vows were said.".

Hermione swirled her spoon in her teacup. "You've every right, of course." Then she stirred it faster, pursing her lips, finally setting the spoon down so quickly a few drops of tea splattered onto the table. "There's something I've been wondering since the first time we interacted. Way back in third year. I'm just going to ask because it's been on the tip of my tongue many times but I've never worked up the nerve to actually say it."

"Go on." Draco didn't know what to expect; that was a bit unnerving.

"It's… about my name. You've called me Hermione since that first day, not once slipping into using my last name. It was surprising then, and it still catches me off guard."

He chuckled and took another bite, relieved even though he didn't know why. "You're right. I think of you as Hermione. I have for a long time now. Come to think of it, I haven't heard you call me anything except my last name."

Hermione cleared her throat. "That's… true. You're right. I suppose I don't think of you as… as Draco."

"I see." He grinned. "Well, you should."

"What are you doing for the rest of your day—Draco? See, I did it."

"Right. It wasn't totally awkward or anything." He sighed and set down his fork. He'd ordered the meal Hermione had mentioned the day before and it had been a fabulous decision. It was definitely the best meal he'd had since this whole mess began. It was hard to believe it had only been seven days, since so much had happened and he'd had to be so careful to keep things straight, but after Azkaban food the day before, this meal tasted better than he'd imagined possible.

"And the rest of your day? _Draco_?" She gave him a teasing smile. "I'll just have to say your name a lot to get used to it. Draco."

He shook his head and smiled. "Uh, nothing really until this afternoon, when I have a few meetings. Mother and I are dining out with family friends." He swallowed hard. "That's not quite true. By friends I mean my, um, future bride and her family." Why did it feel so hard and unpleasant to tell her? "But that's not until much later."

She moved her dishes aside and leaned forward on the table. There was something mischievous in her eyes that made his heart do funny things. "Want to go to a museum with me?"

Draco blinked. "A museum?"

"The National Gallery is having a special on admission today, and since you're not busy, I think we should go."

Draco's bewildered expression slowly morphed into a grin. "Yeah. All right. That sounds great."

Hermione took out her credit card again, eyeing it and then him as she handed it to the server. "I just realized you had no issue handling the transaction with the taxi driver."

"I'm full of surprises. Who knows what you'll discover after a few hours with me in a museum?"

"I look forward to that very much." She took her card back from the server and gathered her things.

As Draco eyed the card, an idea popped into his head. "First you paid for the taxi, then breakfast, and now you're taking me to a Muggle museum? You must let me pay you back."

She hummed lightly. "There's no need. Though, if you must do something, next year, you can buy breakfast."

He grinned and his nerves fired in a pleasantly twisted kind of way. He had no intention of trying to ignore it or fight it today. "Fine. But a bit later in the day, I'll need time to get to the bank."

"Deal. Where?" She snapped her bag shut and signed the credit card slip.

"How about here?"

"Perfect."

Draco stood. "I want to hear about your year. Every time you ask what's going on with me, and at first, I had some general knowledge of what you were up to because we were both in school." They headed for the exit. "And I didn't want to ask too much for fear my reactions might give something away. But I want to hear what you've been doing since Hogwarts. I was always curious, kept expecting to see you and Weasley in the papers together."

Hermione pushed open the door and looked around. "Well, I'll be happy to fill you in. But first, shall we Apparate?"

"Um, that's fine, but are you sure it's safe?" It was always a risk to Apparate in and around London.

Hermione nodded firmly and held out her arm. "I know just the place."

Draco hesitated only because he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be too close to Hermione. But, as there was no way to avoid it, he stepped closer, looping his arm through hers. He was very aware of her then, how she was at least eight inches shorter than him, how her hair, which she'd worked to contain in a loose bun, was beginning to break free. He thought he caught a whiff of something floral as she led him to an alley.

But it was when her hand slid down his arm, grasping his so she could lead him better, that fireworks exploded inside him. He'd never felt anything like it, and for a moment, he was slightly alarmed. The feeling passed quickly, however, because he discovered that it was rather pleasant, this constant bombardment of sensations that made him feel like he might come out of his skin.

It certainly made him want to tug her closer and kiss her.

But before he could even think, she'd gotten them into position, pressed against a wall behind a dumpster. Their backs were against the brick, and Hermione had her eyes on the street, waiting for a good opportunity.

Finally, she linked arms with him once more. "Ready?"

He swallowed hard and nodded, completely unsure if he could even form words.

"Let's go."

**ooo**

Later that day, when he was stuck in a meeting he hadn't wanted to sit through the first time around, he couldn't keep himself from smiling as his thoughts drifted toward Hermione. He'd had more fun that day than any other he could ever remember. Leaving her for something as mundane and boring as work had been difficult, and he'd seriously considered skipping. Why couldn't he simply throw all of his responsibilities out the window? If only he didn't have to worry about being careful.

Maybe that was the key? Maybe he'd learn something from that fairy tale that would show him what he was experiencing wasn't real. Of course, if it wasn't real, then everything he did truly was pointless.

But it felt real, too real to be simply a dream.

When Hermione had taken his hand earlier, whenever they'd brushed up against each other in the museum—his body had reacted. He'd felt things, sensations he hadn't experienced in many years, and he knew that those stirrings he'd felt for the future Miss Granger were now blossoming into a full-blown attraction.

He realized that if they continued spending time together, he was in danger of falling for her one day at a time as he jumped forward through the years. The worst part of it all was not knowing what would happen when he caught up to himself. If he just continued to jump forward, he'd be devastated knowing he could never truly be with her.

A cough in the conference room drew his attention back to the financial report in front of him. The numbers blurred together as his eyes unfocused, his thoughts straying to an especially beautiful work of art that Hermione had seemed to prefer over all others. Maybe someday, if he stopped skipping through time, he'd see about buying her a really nice reproduction of the piece.

But then, the numbers swam back into focus, and he sat up.

Theo, who didn't even work for him yet, was going to wrest the company from him ten years from this day. He'd be left with nothing but his personal vault, which wouldn't last him forever. He needed a source of income after the takeover, something to help him until he could sort things out.

The meeting ended and Draco rushed from the room. He went straight to Gringotts and opened a new account, setting up an automatic transfer that would move ten thousand Galleons a month from the Malfoy Industries account into the new one. It was perfectly legal; the money was his, after all, and the wizarding world's financial laws were minimal at best. He set up wards around the vault in case anyone came looking who shouldn't. Then he put spells on the account name itself; should anyone come across it in various paperwork over the years, they would immediately forget what they'd seen.

It was perfect.

He grinned, knowing that when he got back to the future, he would have quite a nice nest egg and be in an excellent position to start something new or make an investment or two.

Maybe he'd ask Hermione to go on a trip around the world with him.

Maybe he'd buy her the actual painting from the museum.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd ask her on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story is COMPLETE and will be updated weekly. There are now ELEVEN chapters, instead of eight. They are already written. Updates will continue to be on Thursdays. Hope you'll stick around!
> 
> Come find my on Tumblr! I'm [floorcoaster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/floorcoaster) over there!


	4. Try to Hold it Back, Take a Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione!

* * *

**4.26.01**

Draco was tired.

He didn't know what his past self had done the day before, but he felt exhausted as soon as he opened his eyes.

At least he was alone this time. It made sense, now that he was officially engaged to Astoria. That wild phase of his life was behind him, and truthfully, he didn't miss it. He was looking for more than meaningless one-offs, more than what his marriage had thus far offered, too.

He was also mentally spent. Today made the eighth day he'd woken up in a new year, and he wanted a break from trying to remember the important events of his life, the minutiae of his interactions with Astoria, of pretending. It was nice being around Hermione because he didn't have to do any of that. He could be himself. He only wished he could spend the entire day with her, rather than a few hours at best. But he knew she had her own life, and it was notable, in and of itself, that she kept carving out time to spend with him. Yes, it was one day a year, but he really didn't deserve any notice from her at all.

When he looked at the clock, he groaned. It was almost nine. The bank would be opening in a few minutes, and he wanted to be there first thing so he could make his appointment with Hermione at half past.

Feeling very groggy, Draco forced himself to get up. Even though he desperately wanted to move quickly, his body wasn't cooperating.

At nine-fifteen, he was yawning in line, waiting to exchange a few Galleons so he could pay Hermione back. At least this time, he knew where he was going and could Apparate.

Despite his best efforts, it was still five after their appointed meeting time when he slid into the seat across from her.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. I never know when I'm going to wake, and apparently I never bothered with alarms."

The smile she gave him was bright. "That's not a problem at all."

Draco set a small pile of gold in front of her. "This is for last time."

Hermione tutted. "I told you not to bother."

"We agreed that you'd pay for breakfast last year and I'd pay this year. But this is for everything else—the taxi, the museum, lunch at the museum." He yawned and glanced around for the server. He needed to order a cup of coffee today, otherwise he didn't know how he'd make it.

"Well, fine." She put the stack into her beaded bag.

The server, Olivia from the last time, arrived then with a warm smile despite her frenzied manner. Oddly, she remembered them, even asked him if he wanted the same thing he'd ordered previously.

"How can you possibly remember?" He didn't bother trying to hide his surprise.

Olivia waved dismissively. "I'm really good with remembering things, and you two are pretty memorable. I don't know why, but there's just something about you." She smiled knowingly. "So, what'll you have?"

Draco took a little longer to order than Hermione; he didn't want the same thing he'd just had the day before, and he hadn't perused the menu much the last time they were there.

"I'll put this in, shouldn't be long." She smiled and hurried off.

"You look tired," Hermione remarked, her eyes washing over his face.

"I am. No clue why. Oh, but wait." He reached into his robes and pulled out his appointment book. "I can look to see what I did yesterday." He found the calendar and saw that he'd been at the office all day, then shopped for a gift for Astoria immediately after, then had dinner with friends. "Probably had a late night. And a bit to drink. I wonder what I bought her."

"What are you supposed to do today?" She tried to peer across the table; he was sure she could read upside down.

"More work. All day." He sighed heavily. "That's what this time in my life was. My father lives in France, since he was banished from England, and he moved a large portion of his operation there. However, he kept a sizable chunk here and once I was out of prison, he set to the task of training me to be in charge." And he'd gone and lost it all, somehow. "That might be why I'm so tired. There was so much to learn, all while also being expected to do the job. I had a lot of late nights." He glanced at the calendar again. "I don't see anything for this evening, though. I'm sure I intended to be at the office. But, for _me_ , it's my last free night on an April 26th." He grimaced. "Next year, I'll be married."

"I'm curious. You've never seemed particularly happy about getting married. Why is that? It's been all over the gossip papers, endless speculation over your match with Astoria Greengrass."

"I hope you don't believe everything you read in those." He scowled.

"Please. I've had quite enough negative attention from such 'publications' over the years. I know they're trash, but that doesn't change the fact that they love to talk about you and Astoria." The food arrived then, and Hermione thanked the server. "I tend to hear the gossip at work whether I want to or not. And your upcoming wedding is quite a popular topic."

Draco leaned forward too, though there was no need. Nobody around them knew or cared who they were. "Want to know the wedding date?"

Her eyes sparkled. "You mean the date that's been the subject of no less than four major arguments in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures just in the last month?" She sat back in her seat and shrugged. "I suppose, if you want."

He laughed, then shook his head. "I absolutely hate it, but she was allowed the right to choose the date. Are you ready?"

Hermione gave him an expectant look. "I don't know! This is an awful lot of buildup. I—" Her eyes went wide. "Wait, you said you'll be married next time I see you, right? So does that mean… No. She wouldn't."

"February fourteenth. Yes." He dragged a hand through his hair, grabbing a fistful at the back and giving a slight yank.

"Why are you so unhappy about getting married, though? Usually it's considered a joyful occasion."

He looked at her intently, trying to decide just how much he could say. "I'm sure I don't really need to say this, but at the same time, I feel like I can't not say it. You'll never repeat anything I say—to her or to anyone, right?"

Before he knew what was happening, Hermione threw a napkin at him. "Don't be stupid. Of course not."

"But I mean, you can't even hint that you know anything. You can't look at her wrong if you see us out together or something."

"Draco, I understand the dangers of messing with time. You don't have anything to worry about that from me."

"All right. I know that, but I had to get that out of the way anyway." He took a deep breath and a long drink from his coffee, then resituated himself so that he'd be more comfortable. "I never told you much about the circumstances that led up to me finding myself in third year, just in time to get slapped by you. I couldn't possibly risk it. Now that the war is over, though, I feel a little more prepared to share a few small details. One important one being my marriage is basically arranged. One last duty to the Malfoy name—well, that and having a son."

Her eyes went wide. "Arranged? Oh, I see. I'm… truly sorry. That sounds awful. I take it, then, that you and Astoria never became… _close?"_

"That's an understatement. Our marriage has been a farce almost since the beginning, and as soon as I get out of this time mess, I'm divorcing her. April 26th is her birthday. On that same day I found myself jumping through time, I'd paid an unexpected visit to my office and found her… Well, let's just say I'll never touch my desk again."

Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "No! Was she… _with_ someone?"

"She was. I don't know if it was the first time or the hundredth, but there was a timed Fidelity Clause in our marriage contract, and she wouldn't have been able to break that, so for ten years, she was faithful—technically. That special Clause ended in February, just two and a half months before I found her." Hermione's eyes were still wide. He waved a hand. "Don't worry. I assure you, I suffered no personal pain over it. A divorce will be very public, and considered scandalous in our circles, but I couldn't care less. I'm quite tired of living my life according to someone else's plan."

"Did you ever love her?" she asked hesitantly.

"No. But I was never unkind to her. She knew what she was getting into, we both did, and she agreed to all the terms. There was a period of time, at the beginning, when we were trying to conceive, and then during her pregnancy and right after my son's birth where I thought maybe I could learn to love her, but she made it very clear that she wasn't interested."

Hermione was quiet for a long while, her expression thoughtful. "I hope you find something better, then. When you get back to your time."

"Thank you."

Neither of them felt the need to speak. Draco immersed himself in the sounds of the café around him: other patrons talking, dishes clinking, soft, nondescript music playing gently in the background. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke.

"So, what do you want to do on your so-called last night of freedom?"

Draco laughed. "Well, it's not really. I am quite married, I'm afraid. Though hopefully not for much longer."

"I suppose, after this year, you'll be less available on April 26th. Especially since it's her birthday." There was a hint of sadness in Hermione's eyes as she spoke, but she masked it quickly and returned her focus to her food.

The realization hit him like a weight in the pit of his stomach. "Oh, yeah. Right."

"We should celebrate, then. Do something. Are you seeing her tonight?"

"No. She's at Hogwarts—although, right, I saw her last year. No, since we're officially knee-deep in being engaged, if I remember correctly, I arranged to have a very elaborate gift delivered today, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that she was mine." He rolled his eyes. "It was my mother's idea."

"Is she happy about Astoria?"

"Now? Or before we were married?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I want to know both?"

"She was very pleased and thought Astoria was a lovely choice. Now, she regrets that I don't have the kind of marriage she has with my father. Their's was an arrangement as well, but they bonded and grew to love each other. To be in love, even." Draco hadn't seen his father in years; he should go visit him. Lucius would need to be informed about the company, and probably better to hear it from his son than from some newspaper.

"So, about tonight… What would you do if you could do anything you wanted? Anything at all?"

Draco's gaze darted to hers. The question caught him off guard, though his mind instantly started providing him with ideas for his answer. All of them involved her in some way, and most featured her very, very naked. He coughed, turning away to hide his violent blush. Though, this Hermione wasn't _his_ Hermione yet. She was closer than before, and every day he saw her, he could see the hints of who she would become, but she wasn't there yet.

"Oh, um, well, now that I think about it, I am rather tired. Something nice and quiet, I think." They were finished with their food and lingering over their nearly empty drinks. Draco knew he needed to leave soon, but it was impossible to work up the motivation.

Hermione nodded. "Let me think about it. I've got to go though. I'll owl you? Oh! We forgot to discuss the book! Maybe we'll remember to do it tonight.."

Draco tried to suppress his smile. "Ah, yes, that sounds good."

She motioned for the server to come over and asked for the bill, handing over her credit card as soon as the server produced it. Then she turned to Draco with a very determined expression on her face.

"Okay, I'm just going to ask. I've been going back and forth in my mind for the last fifteen minutes or so, ever since you told me what's going to happen with Astoria in the future, and I know it's so dangerous to mess with the timeline, but here goes." She paused and took a deep breath. "Do you want me to tell your past self not to marry her?" She avoided looking directly at him. "Knowing what's coming for you, knowing that you're miserable with her… if you want, I'll try and talk to you, talk you out of it."

Draco's eyes widened. "There's no telling what that would do to the future! I'm surprised at you, Granger."

She blushed slightly.

"And as much as I appreciate your concern, and I absolutely mean that, I have to decline." He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, pondering his words. "My son, he's… everything to me. I'll gladly, willingly go through life with her if I get him. But thank you."

She nodded, appearing relieved at his answer. He was struck by the notion that she had been willing to disrupt the timeline—or at least, contemplate it—for him. The realization made his heart swell, and he was anxious to get back to his own timeline so he could move forward with his life. He refused to even consider that things wouldn't return to normal.

They stood and Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder. "You called me Granger just now. Did you notice?"

He laughed as he held the door open for her. "I didn't notice. I think it was your offer of meddling that reminded me of your past mischief. I always admired that side of you, though grudgingly."

Hermione led him back to the same alley they'd Disapparated from the year before. The same dumpster was there, and they hurried to hide behind it. Pressed against the brick wall again, with their shoulders touching, neither seemed in a hurry to actually leave.

A car honked on the street, jolting him back to reality. He chuckled nervously. Merlin, he'd wanted to kiss her. But that wouldn't do.

"Well, goodbye." Hermione stepped away abruptly and gave him a half smile.

Draco swallowed hard. "Right. Yes. I'll await your owl."

She waved and Disapparated.

He let out a long breath. The concept that it was his last night before getting married, despite being completely untrue, had worked its way into his brain. For an instant, he'd thought about kissing her.

Even if he _hadn't_ been actually married, kissing someone other than his fiancée would be a mistake. But he _was_ actually married, so acting like he was only engaged made no sense, and—gah, everything was so muddled.

The truth was, he was confusing his attraction to Scorpius's favorite teacher with the Hermione of the past. She was the same, but she wasn't quite.

Upon further thought, he wondered whether he ought to cancel their currently unformed plans for the evening. Or rather, when she sent an owl about it, he could write back saying he was unavailable. It seemed wise.

But he was also selfish and wanted to spend more time with her. As he went through the rest of his day, he waffled back and forth in his mind about what he should do, finally deciding, as the work day came to an end, that he would accept. He could control himself, for Merlin's sake. He wanted their association to continue through the coming years—days—so he wouldn't risk jeopardizing that.

In the end though, all of his wrestling didn't matter. Her owl arrived shortly after he made his decision, and the note attached said she'd have to cancel—something had come up. But she suggested they meet again the following year, same place and same time.

Draco was disappointed but also somewhat relieved. He sent a reply back with the owl confirming for the next year.

He imagined Hermione writing it in her calendar, and that gave him the idea of blocking off April 26th in his own planner. That way, even though his past self wouldn't know why the square had a large X on it, hopefully he would leave it alone. At least that way, he might have a whole day free next year.

Then, curious, he decided to check on the account he'd opened the year before. Thankfully, Gringotts was open for an extra hour after other businesses typically closed for the day to allow people to execute transactions before the next day. The line was long, but he had nowhere else to be.

To his delight—though, not his surprise—the pile of gold in the new vault was just what it should be.

Draco decided then to take a walk in Muggle London. He didn't want to run into anyone magical, and he wasn't ready to go home. He left through the Leaky Cauldron, turned right, and just started walking.

**ooo**

* * *

**4.26.02**

The bed beside him moved, and he felt someone get up. He heard the swish of fabric as Astoria slipped into a robe and tiptoed from the bedroom.

Draco pretended to be asleep until she'd gone. He'd not really remembered that they'd once shared a room and slept in the same bed. It had made it convenient whenever they'd wanted to have sex—an heir was absolutely required—but everything about it had always felt so cold. So empty. Sharing his life, his body, with a stranger who he happened to live with.

When he decided he could no longer simply lie around, he sat up. He was in her room—rather, the room they'd shared at the start of their marriage, which became hers alone after Scorpius was born. He'd never been comfortable inviting her into his space; this was his home, where he'd grown up, so certain rooms belonged only to him.

He lay in bed, thinking about the day before him. There were two things he knew for certain: it was Astoria's birthday, and he probably had to work. But he'd had the forethought to mark today off in his calendar, so he hoped his past self had abided by the seemingly arbitrary time off. Though, if anything, it could easily be explained as taking time off to celebrate with his wife.

What rubbish.

He'd been in charge of Malfoy Industries for over a year and a half at this point, and he remembered being constantly frustrated by his father's business practices. There weren't many records, which was useful for plausible deniability, but it was a great hindrance for trying to understand how things ran. It would be another two full years before Draco finally felt settled and in control. He knew there were plenty of people, especially the older employees, who'd never liked his updates, but the company had started to really perform in the last four years. Draco had been very proud of the turnaround.

However, nobody had ever asked him if he wanted this role; it had always simply been assumed. He'd never taken the time to consider what he might do if he had been allowed to follow his own path. He was fairly certain he had no idea where that path even led.

It was almost eight. He was supposed to meet Hermione around half past nine, but he'd need to get to the bank again. First, however, he needed to view his memory of the day to be sure that he could replicate everything he did for Astoria's birthday in the past.

After getting dressed, he found the Pensieve he'd used before to see how his day would go. He went pink when he saw Astoria pull him in for a kiss in the breakfast room as he was leaving for work—a kiss that led to him taking her right there on the table. He watched carefully to be sure he could repeat the performance exactly as he'd done before. When it was over, his heart was racing—he was a man after all.

Draco tried to remain calm. It didn't matter that he didn't love her, he could do this. He'd done it plenty of times before. At this point in their marriage, they had shagged relatively frequently. They'd only been married two and a half months, after all, and Astoria had been single-mindedly focused on getting pregnant. He'd once thought that possibly, she truly enjoyed being with him.

The difference now was that it had been a long time since he'd slept with his wife. She'd closed herself off to him almost immediately after finding out she was pregnant. That had greatly soured Draco's attitude toward her; he'd started to think they might be able to build something.

Something else occurred to him: if he did have sex with Astoria, it would be another opportunity for her to get pregnant. But if she got pregnant today, she wouldn't conceive Scorpius in December. Obviously, his past self hadn't gotten her pregnant, but he wasn't going to take any risks. He'd need to use a spell his father had taught him for just such an occasion. As his father had told him, some long dead wizard had created a spell that would allow him to sleep around without any consequences. This spell came in handy particularly amongst the pureblood wizards obsessed with blood purity. The spell wasn't widely known anymore; it had been passed down from father to son over the generations, and if ever a family had no sons, there was no need to continue the tradition. It was never written down or put into any books because they didn't want just anybody to have access to it.

Typical.

He would have to cast the spell just before his release, and he'd have to do it without alerting Astoria. He didn't think it would be an issue, though it had been some time since he'd used it.

Draco took a few deep breaths and mentally prepared himself, then went to the breakfast room. In his memory, he made a cup of tea, and he would take it with him to Diagon Alley.

Astoria smiled up at him over a plate of eggs and kippers. "Good morning, Draco."

"Morning." He kissed her cheek reflexively, then set about preparing his tea.

"Aren't you going to sit?" She patted the chair beside her.

"I've got to get to work. Running a bit behind." Two lumps of sugar and a dollop of cream went into a travel cup. He'd seen Muggles with them and thought them a brilliant idea. He turned around and smiled. "But Happy Birthday, Astoria."

She smiled demurely. "Thank you. Don't forget, we've got dinner with my parents tonight."

"Of course. I'll be there." He leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

She let him, but then slid her hands around his neck, pulling him down toward her.

Draco focused on making sure that he treated her exactly as he'd done in the Pensieve. It wouldn't do to be more or less attentive; he needed the timeline to stay intact to ensure that he didn't screw anything up about his son's conception.

Once they'd finished and righted their clothes, Astoria couldn't stop blushing and avoided looking at him. It was quite a contrast to what he'd witnessed between her and Theo, but he really didn't want to spend any more energy on that subject.

"I'll see you tonight." He kissed her again quickly and hurried from the room. His thoughts were a bit muddled after their shag, but it hadn't taken too long; he still had plenty of time to be at the bank when it opened.

**ooo  
**

"I'm actually on time." Draco dropped into the empty chair at what he'd unofficially labeled 'their table.'

Hermione looked up from her book and gave him a strained smile. "So you are. Work and life going well this year?"

He shrugged and picked up the menu. "Yesterday I saw a dish I wanted to try. I've brought my own tea, but maybe I'll order another cup later." Running his finger along the menu, he frowned. "I don't see it."

"It's been a year, you know." She sipped from her own cup. "They might not sell it anymore."

"That's disappointing." He made his selection so that he'd be ready when the server came. "At least I've been sleeping well lately."

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat. "Yes, now that you're married. How's that?"

Draco peered at her curiously. "I've told you how it is."

She waved her hands at him. "But you're quite… chipper this morning. Perhaps you'd forgotten how well marriage suits you."

He rolled his eyes. "My mood has nothing to do being married this year versus not last year. It's only been a day for me, remember?" The server had set down a plate of small crepes and Draco stabbed one with his fork. Though, perhaps he was feeling so upbeat because of his tryst with Astoria. It certainly hadn't meant anything, but he wasn't about to tell Hermione about it. "I simply feel well-rested this morning. What about you? How are things at the Ministry? I never really kept up."

"To be honest, it's…" Hermione let out a sigh. "It's not what I thought it would be. I've been here over three years, and I don't think I've done anything of significance. I thought… Well, I expected I'd be able to craft legislation that would truly benefit not just other magical species but us, as well. I don't think it's good for wizards to believe that they are at the height of the magical food chain."

Draco didn't know much of anything about what Hermione did before she left the Ministry to start the school. "I'm sorry to hear that it's been frustrating. I know that, at this point in my life, I was feeling a lot of resentment toward my father for thrusting the company on me without even really asking. Do you want to tell me more? Maybe I can be a sounding board. I'd be happy to toss ideas around with you, help you think through issues, or at the very least, give you explanations for why those old codgers are so stuck in their ways."

"Oh, that—" Excitement flared on her face, but then she seemed to dim before him. "I don't… maybe. I'm not sure there's time today. I've got to be at work by ten thirty."

"All right. Last year, I had the idea to schedule today off for myself. When I get into the office, I'll check and see if I followed through." He grinned, popping a piece of crepe into his mouth.

She didn't respond except to give him a tight smile. Then she pulled the book out of her bag, the one with the fairy tale. "Speaking of carrying ideas from one year to the next, we never got to talk about the story."

Draco blinked, surprised at her demeanor. Had he done something to offend her? "You want to talk about the book?"

"Yes. I think it's important. We didn't manage to do it last year, and I really think it could mean something. Let's talk about practicalities, shall we? What did you think of the fairy tale?"

Draco frowned, remembering the story he'd read two days before. "The main character, Portia, had a dream where she experienced the lives of various people from her life, especially her family, living as a different person every day. She learned a lot about herself and her family, about why her parents and grandparents had made some major decisions. After the dream, she went on to live a very ordinary life." He shrugged. "It was a neat story, and I see similarities to my experience, but you're right, it isn't the same. I'm not sure if it has any connection."

Hermione let out a deflated sigh. "I had hoped that your magical background might have given you some insight I couldn't have seen." Then some of her energy and interest seemed to return. "I'm not ready to dismiss it completely. After all, if I learned anything from Beedle the Bard, it's that tales in the magical world can have significance beyond a first glance. Or a thirtieth glance. And Portia came back! She wasn't stuck going through this forever."

"I don't think I'll be doing this forever, either. I've thought about that a little. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. If this does continue, then I won't have terribly long before it ends." He grimaced slightly.

"What do you mean?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Because at one year a day—at most, I've got, what, another one hundred years or so? That would only take me a few months to get through before there's nowhere else to go."

Hermione sucked in a breath. "Oh, I don't think so! What could do that? I've talked with my contact in the Department of Mysteries a handful of times over the last few years, and she doesn't know of anything that could cause this particular situation. Once you're clear of it, she's going to want to interview you."

"I don't fancy being experimented on." Draco shuddered. "I've heard too many horror stories of things happening to people when they've worked with Mysteries."

She laughed. The sound eased his anxiety and drew a smile from him.

"I don't blame you." Her smile, the first real, true smile he'd seen from her today, was dazzling. Her eyes were shining as she looked at him, and his answering grin grew. After a moment, however, she faltered and looked back down at the book, though he could tell she wasn't really looking at it.

Without really thinking, he reached over and put his hand on her arm. "Hey, Hermione? Is, uh, everything okay?" She looked at his hand on her arm, staring at it without speaking. After a moment, he withdrew, feeling distance spring up between them.

"Everything's fine." She cast him a quick half-smile. "It's just that, you came to me… what, eight years ago, asking for my help, and I've really done nothing to help you." She kept skimming the pages of the story as though something new might pop out. "I mean, I've done quite a lot of reading, and speaking with my Mysteries contact. I'll try to do better this year." She closed the book and returned it to her bag, then waved the server over.

Draco had the distinct impression that something was off about their whole interaction. "You don't have to do anything, Hermione. Just because I asked you eight years ago doesn't mean you're required to do it. That was before I knew I'd jump through time. Please. If you want to stop, then stop."

The server came and Hermione handed her card over without even looking at the bill. Draco pulled a few Galleons out of his pocket and gave them to Hermione. They looked at each other, and he felt like all the air had been sucked out of the café, all the sounds silenced—everything stopped while he waited for her to give him a response.

Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and looked away, continuing to prepare herself to leave.

"No. I want to do this." She gave him a smile, small but genuine. "Shall we meet again next year? Same time? Same place?"

Draco let out a sigh of relief. "Yes. Same time, same place. Half nine is perfect, as it gives me time to get to the bank first if I need to."

She stood and pushed in her chair. "All right. I'll… I'll see you next year, Draco." With a slight wave, she spun on her heel and walked away.

Draco watched her go, feeling an odd mix of relief and worry. She was going to help him, but really, the help wasn't all that important to him. He'd mostly given up the idea of trying to solve the mystery of what was happening, resigned to simply survive the ride. But Hermione, it would seem, had put a considerable amount of effort into the problem, so he decided to spend the rest of the day in the library at the Manor. There were hundreds of old books in there, some of which were the only copies in existence. Maybe he'd find something he could share with her. If he did, he'd send an owl before the end of the day.

But there was something else, something in the way she'd seemed to hold back today. Maybe she was growing tired of him but her stubborn nature wouldn't let her give up trying to solve the mystery. How could he make her see that it was okay if she wanted to stop?

He got up to go and was halfway to the door when the server called after him.

"Sir!"

Draco turned back to see the server hurrying after him.

"You forgot these." He held out his hand and Draco presented his palm. The server dropped the gold coins in his hand with a chuckle. "Those are some funny tokens."

"Thank you." Draco looked down to see the Galleons he'd given to Hermione. She'd left them for some reason. He closed his hand around them and went outside to Apparate.

**ooo**

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Hope you're enjoying it!**


	5. All the Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** 13 Going on 30 (2004) - claimed by floorcoaster
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione for everything - beta work, graphics, general cheerleading and support. Title comes from a song of the same name by Flume. Beautiful chapter graphic by dreamsofdramione, too!
> 
>   
> 

**4.26.03**

When Draco woke the next morning, he found himself alone. He'd gone to bed the night before beside Astoria, but it was a year later, and she was now pregnant.

Draco sat up.

At least, he hoped she was.

His heart started racing and he threw off the covers, quickly pulling on his pajama bottoms. Not bothering with anything else, Draco rushed out of his room and practically ran to Astoria's. Not bothering to knock, he flung open the door.

She was there, still asleep on her side, her back to the door. But Draco had to know, he had to make sure. Gently but urgently, he shook her shoulder.

"Astoria. Wake up. Please."

She made a noise and rolled onto her back. Draco's eyes darted to her stomach, unable to tell if it was slightly swollen or if there was just a bunch of fabric under the sheet.

"Draco? What—what do you want?" She pulled the covers up to her chin, as though afraid he was there to try and see her naked.

"When are you due again?" He couldn't act too crazy; he would assume that she was pregnant, finding it unlikely that she wasn't.

She blinked at him, confusion evident in her expression. "What?"

"The baby! When is the baby coming?" There was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, but he was making every effort not to fully give in to it. After all, he didn't know anything for sure.

"Draco, did you honestly wake me up for this?" She scowled and tried to get comfortable again, all while making sure he didn't see her.

He wanted to roll his eyes considering that she was, technically, his wife, and he'd seen everything there was to see. Her shyness only reinforced how very far apart they had always been. He wondered briefly how uncomfortable she'd been being intimate with him, but he ignored the thought.

"Yes. I did. Now will you answer me?"

Astoria yawned dramatically. "October twenty-second. I'm sure you wrote down in your calendar. You'll want to be absolutely certain that you get your heir."

He ignored the jab. "Thank you." As he turned to go, he remembered something. "Oh, happy birthday. And I really mean it. Thank you for carrying our child."

She gazed at him with curiosity. "Well, you're welcome. Though I'm only doing my duty. And thank you. I'll be spending the day with my mother and sisters. They're taking me to Paris. I don't know when I'll be back."

Draco grinned. "Paris is lovely in April. Have a good day, then." It was only then that he realized he needed to check his memory in the Pensieve.

"Thank you, Draco. You too." She settled back down into bed.

He waved and shut the door behind him. Grinning wildly, he nearly ran to his study. A quick trip into the Pensieve revealed that Astoria would, indeed, spend the whole day with her family. When she came home, he had met her and given her a gift—another pair of earrings from the Malfoy vault—kissed her cheek, and said goodnight. He, meanwhile, had spent the day at work, though he hadn't attended any meetings.

_Good_.

Since nobody would miss him, he could easily spend the day with Hermione instead. Thankfully, he was able to find some Galleons lying around in plain view, so he didn't have to go to the bank. Draco arrived at the cafe first for a change and requested their usual table.

He was in such a good mood that he went ahead and ordered Hermione's usual tea—a rooibos—along with his English breakfast while he waited.

She arrived exactly five minutes before their appointed time and stopped in her tracks for a moment when she saw him. She took a deep breath, then continued toward him.

Draco grinned and jumped up to pull out her chair.

"Um, thank you." Hermione flushed slightly as she sat.

"Great news." He was so relieved, felt so light, that he tapped his saucer a few times with his spoon.

"Oh? Have you figured out what's going on?" Hermione's tone was surprisingly sharp.

"No. Astoria's pregnant!"

Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked down at her hands, then wrapped them around her tea cup. "Oh, um, congratulations."

He decided to ignore her strange response for now. He was too happy. "Thank you. I'm mostly just relieved that I didn't screw anything up last year. She needed to get pregnant in December so she could have him on October seventeenth. I was a bit anxious yesterday—last year—that I might mess something up."

"Oh!" Her expression went from guarded to understanding. "I hadn't even thought about that."

He chuckled, feeling lighter than he had in a very long time, including a long stretch before the time jumping started. "It's all I've been thinking about since the war ended. Scorpius is amazing, I can't wait for you to meet him."

The server arrived then and he noted bemusedly that it was the same woman who'd served them every time they'd come. She seemed distracted today, however, and they placed their food orders without the usual chatter.

When she walked away, Hermione gave Draco a skeptical look. "Scorpius, huh?"

"It's better than my name, at least." Draco shrugged. "But he's just the best kid."

"And I meet him?" She leaned forward, showing interest for the first time that day and possibly the previous one as well.

"You will. Next year. I'm going to bring him to breakfast."

"Oh!" Her eyes went wide again, then she laughed. "I thought you meant I would meet him in the future."

Draco wagged a finger at her. "Did you really think I'd slip with something like that?"

She shrugged. "Well, I was surprised, but you're so happy, I thought maybe you'd gotten careless."

"Nope. Nice try, though."

"So, um, you want me to meet him?"

"I do. He's the most important thing in my life, and he'll be even more so now that I'll be divorcing Astoria. I'll be able to focus completely on him. He's so smart and funny, and he's got this fantastic imagination. He loves to play outside. We were deep into plans for building a tree fort the day I got stuck in this time jump."

Hermione was smiling and he could practically feel some of her tension dissipating. "He sounds incredible."

"Of course, next year he'll only be a few months old." Draco thought back to when his son was just an infant, and he was hit with the realization that, when he woke up tomorrow, he'd be very, very tired. "I'll probably be poor company next year. He'll be about six months old, and I think he was up at least twice a night still at that age. Although your body sort of gets used to it. I remember feeling like I was in a constant daze for the first three years of his life."

"You must have been very involved in his life. Did, um, Astoria help?"

Draco snorted. "Sure. She breastfed him for a year, but she pumped a lot of extra milk. It was my job to feed him through the nights. She claimed it was so she could rest and be fresh for him during the day when I was at work." He chuckled, remembering some of his midnight mishaps and diaper disasters.

"Tell me one." She leaned forward, her smile radiant. "I want to hear all about Draco Malfoy the father."

It only took a moment to recollect the story he wanted to tell. "One night, I had just put on the last clean nappy, so I called Kippy—she's our house-elf—and she informed me that there was a clean load ready and went to fetch them. I must have been extremely exhausted because I hadn't fastened the thing on correctly. Kippy hadn't been gone ten seconds before Scorpius had a major blowout. It had leaked down his leg, was all over his clothes, the changing area, and somehow it ended up on the wall."

She gasped loudly. "Oh no!"

He gave her a significant look. "I immediately started cleaning him up, knowing that a fresh nappy was on its way. I was halfway through when he let loose with a second wave. And this time, there was no diaper to mitigate the spread."

"Oh, Draco! That sounds completely awful!"

He shook his head, chuckling. "As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed the dirty nappy and tried to cover him up, but that only made a kind of splash wall, and the baby crap went everywhere. It got on the floor, it got on my clothes—Hermione, it was even in my hair. I just held on for dear life until he'd finished."

Hermione was laughing now, not even trying to hold it in. "I can picture this so clearly! It's hilarious!"

"I can laugh now, but I assure you, I was horrified then. I was brand new at being a father, I'd never heard anything like that was even possible. So I'm standing there, covering his bum with a soiled nappy, when Kippy came back with a basket full of fresh ones. She looked at me, the wall, and then her eyes flicked up to my hair. I've never seen an elf trying so hard not to laugh. Finally, Scorpius's supply was exhausted. He started making little cooing noises, and I didn't know what to do except laugh. Then Kippy joined me, but she didn't let me suffer long. She Vanished the crap that was flung all over the room—she even found a spot on the window, which was six feet away! I cleaned Scorpius up and got him dressed in fresh clothes, and he was just happily laying there being a baby. Kippy offered to hold him while I showered, and I swear, I washed my hair _five_ times, just to be safe!"

Tears were streaming down her face now, and her eyes lit up with mirth. "I've heard that every parent ends up with at least one diaper-changing horror story. Yours is one of the worst I've heard, though."

"Oh good, that's some relief." He chuckled, unable to take his eyes off her. When had she gotten so beautiful?

When her laughter subsided and she wiped her eyes, she resumed eating her meal. They ate in silence for a few minutes, Draco lost in memories of when his son was a newborn.

"Tell me about Kippy."

"Hm?" Her question penetrated his thoughts, but it took him a moment to register her question. "Oh, my house-elf. What do you want to know?"

Hermione pushed some eggs around on her plate. "I'm trying to do something at my job. It's… it's just not gotten any better since the last time I spoke with you. I was thinking if I could bring something forward, some kind of meaningful legislation, that it could really jumpstart my career." Her shoulders slumped. "Four years now and… nothing. It honestly feels like such a waste of my time."

He almost suggested that she look into something else but decided against it. She hadn't needed his help before to find her own way. Best to let things progress naturally, as they had in his time. "How can I help?"

"Well, do you… I don't mean to offend, but… I only wonder…"

"She's paid, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, good!" Hermione let out a relieved breath. "Is she? I had no idea, I mean, the way you spoke about her made me wonder…"

"As soon as I was in charge of the Manor, I freed all the house-elves. My experience with the Dark Lord felt a little too much like how I'd seen them act. Too many of his followers bowed and scraped, debasing themselves for even a hint of favor or power. Plenty of them even offered to punish themselves; it was disgusting. I refused to allow such a thing to happen in my home. I offered them jobs and wages, but only Kippy remained. I don't know what the others have done."

She was beaming at him, the tips of her cheeks slightly pink. "That's… incredible, Draco. I had no idea. Though, of course, I'm sorry to hear about your experience during the war."

He waved her off. "That's long past. No sense dwelling on it. All I can do is try for better. But how can Kippy help you?"

"Well, I'm not sure. It sounds like you have a good relationship with her?"

"Yes, I do."

Hermione hummed, her brow furrowed in thought. "I'll get back to you about that, but I should really get going. I hate to end this, but I'm already late for work."

Draco quickly downed the rest of his tea and stood to walk out with her. Once on the street, they started toward that same alley. "Oh, I have a favor to ask. Next year, could we possibly go somewhere else? I'll have Scorpius with me, and I don't think a cafe is the best place. Maybe somewhere outside?"

"Sure, there's a park a few blocks away. Why don't we meet here and walk there?"

"Great. I'll most likely be taking another taxi. Can't quite Apparate with a baby. They tend to get sick all over you."

She laughed and pulled some money from her purse. "Here. Make sure to put it somewhere safe so you can find it and use this next year, yeah?"

"Thanks. Goodbye, Hermione."

By the end of their time together, he felt she was more back to normal. Still, he couldn't fight the feeling that something was a little bit… off.

**ooo**

* * *

**4.26.04**

Draco arrived exactly seventeen minutes early. He had overestimated how much time it would take him to prepare Scorpius for their outing. Into a gaudy, designer nappy bag Astoria had picked out, he stuffed two changes of clothes, four nappies, a wad of wipes, and a stick of Granny Emderelda's Miracle Toosh Goo. The name was ridiculous but it worked like a charm.

The taxi driver kept shooting him strange looks in the back seat. He was wearing Scorpius in a carrier that he'd bought after seeing a Muggle mum wearing one when Scorpius was only three months old. It had looked comfortable and easy, plus he could keep both hands free. He loved being so close to his son, and now, with Scorpius's baby days long behind him, Draco relished the feel of his infant son in his arms.

Rather than stand around outside the café, Draco paced up and down the sidewalk, enjoying looking in the windows. It was warm for April, so he had his shirt sleeves rolled up—his Mark covered with a glamour—and a pair of sunglasses on. He had just completed his second pass of the street and was pointing to something inside the café's display window when a stranger stopped beside him.

"Excuse me, can I ask you something?"

Draco turned to see a young woman around his age holding the hand of a small girl. She wore a long, flowing dress, and her long, black hair rippled in the wind. Pushing a pair of large sunglasses onto the top of her head, she revealed her dark brown eyes.

"Yes?" He started bouncing slightly, automatically, to keep Scorpius content.

The woman beamed at him. "Where did you get your carrier? I've never seen one like that, and I really like the fit."

The truth was, he'd modified the one he'd bought so that it fit him perfectly, even adding some features, like a wand pocket. "Oh, um, it's custom made." He shrugged. "Sorry."

She laughed lightly, using her free hand to brush a loose tendril of hair from her face. "Are you shopping or just looking?" She nodded sideways toward the window he'd just been looking in.

"Looking. Showing Scorpius here the selection of treats for today." He patted the bottom of the carrier where Scorpius's bum rested.

"Aw, that's an adorable name! Can I see him?" She stepped into Draco's personal space, and it took all of his mental fortitude not to panic and back away.

He turned slightly, presenting the side of the carrier where Scorpius's face could be seen. He was asleep, one hand tucked up near his cheek.

"He's precious! How old is he?" The little girl was spinning back and forth in place, her free hand swinging through her dress. She looked bored.

"He's just about six months old."

The woman got even closer, ostensibly to get a better look, and Draco wondered briefly if she was trying to chat him up. "Hello, little one." Then she stood and straightened, her expression very _interested_. "We were just headed to the park down the street, have you been there?"

"I have not. I'm actually meeting someone—"

"Draco?" Hermione walked out from behind the woman. Her smile was thin as she took in the scene, and he wondered how much she'd heard. "Sorry I'm a little late."

He smiled at her, relieved. "It's no problem. I'd wanted to grab a tea to go, though, do you mind?" He stepped around the woman and walked to Hermione's side. He turned to the woman. "It was nice talking with you. Have a nice day."

She looked disappointed and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks. You too." Then she led her daughter down the sidewalk.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked blandly as she opened the door of the café.

"No idea. She stopped to speak to me right before you arrived."

Hermione huffed. "Obviously, she was hitting on you."

"I gathered that, actually." He placed his order for tea and an egg wrap to go at the counter while Hermione perused the offerings. She selected a croissant and waited in line behind him. "Although she might have been truly interested in the carrier. It's got a lot of extra pockets." He grinned at her. "Said she liked the fit."

Hermione snorted. "I highly doubt she was _that_ interested in the carrier. I think she liked the way it fit _you._ "

"Oh? Was that some sort of compliment, Granger?" He was needling her a little because she seemed so easy to rile up right then. He didn't mind a bit the flush on her cheeks or the spark in her eyes.

Her return look was sharp but then it was her turn at the counter. Draco considered her words and realized they'd gotten dangerously close to something that resembled flirting—though she seemed more irritated than anything, and his response might have been unwelcome. He resolved to steer clear of such banter in the future.

When they were done, Hermione led him out of the café, still silent. The alley they usually used to Apparate was a left turn, and she turned right instead. "It's just a few blocks ahead."

"All right."

The air between them felt charged for the first block and a half, but then Hermione let out a long breath and her shoulders relaxed. Much of the tension melted at the same time. "So, that's Scorpius tucked inside there?"

"Yeah." Draco automatically put his hands around the carrier. "This is Scorpius. He's asleep right now, though. Still has a morning nap at this age, but I'm sure he'll wake up soon so you can meet him properly. How's your year been? Any improvements?"

"Maybe. I'm nearing the end of putting together a bill for house-elves, after talking about it with you last year. Although, if this doesn't go through the way I hope…" She trailed off, looking away and sipping from her cup.

"I think you could do just about anything you wanted." He tried to think back to when she had quit the Ministry and started the school. If he remembered correctly, she'd approached him when Scorpius was three to get his opinion on the idea, and he'd been very supportive.

"The park is just over there." Hermione pointed to a decently-sized green space across the street. There were trees and benches and a paved trail winding through it all. "I saw you, you know."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean, you saw me?" Her tone was slightly accusatory.

"In January. You were in Diagon Alley one Saturday, and I saw you with Scorpius and your mother."

"Yeah?" They crossed the street when it was safe, and Hermione led him to a bench. Draco remained standing for a few minutes, continuing to bounce Scorpius in the hope that he could sit without disturbing his sleep too much.

"I watched you. I couldn't help it. I've been so curious about all of this, and it was the first time I'd seen you since your trial. The you in my time, I mean. Oh, it's so confusing. But I… I wanted you to see me, because…" She threw up her free hand. "I don't know, what if you— _he_ —did recognize me? Or have some kind of ghost of a memory of everything? So I, um, followed you into a shop. You did see me, you sort of did a double-take, but then I think once you confirmed that it was me, you went on with your day."

He tried to remember that happening, but from how she'd described the incident, he didn't think anything would stand out. "I don't recall that. Sorry."

She shrugged. "I wasn't expecting you to, I was just so curious. I kept watching you, though. I'm so sorry. I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of _you_ in him—past you—but without actually interacting. It was impossible. Though you did seem very at ease with Scorpius. He was tucked away in your carrier, so I didn't see him at all."

Draco finally felt confident enough to sit and he did so carefully. The bench wasn't terribly big, and he set the nappy bag beside him knowing that Astoria would be very angry if the bag got messed up in any way—including the presence of a few specks of dirt on the bottom. He'd learned that the hard way. He ended up sitting rather close to Hermione, close enough to feel her beside him.

Close enough for butterflies to tickle his stomach.

He hadn't been sitting for two minutes, however, before Scorpius began to stir. Draco sighed. "He doesn't like it when I sit." He unbuckled the carrier and gently took it off, scooping one arm around Scorpius to hold him secure.

Hermione leaned closer, invading his personal space in a completely different and much more welcome way than the woman had earlier. "He's precious, Draco. Oh my, look at his hands! They're so tiny!"

"Wish you could have seen him when he was first born." He turned Scorpius so that Hermione could get a better look at his face. "He's got my eyes."

"And your scowl! Look at him!" She laughed lightly and held a hand up to his. "May I?"

"Of course." Draco handed him over, along with a spare cloth in case she needed it.

He leaned back and put his arms up on the back of the bench, stretching out his legs in front of him. He couldn't quite believe where he was: in a Muggle park with Hermione Granger, introducing her to his son. Granted, he knew she'd meet him eventually, but this… this felt different, somehow. This was introducing him to someone he'd grown to truly care about over the last ten days. Before, his fledgling attraction to Hermione had been just that—very, very new. So new, in fact, that he hadn't quite spent time sorting it all out.

Now, she was important to him in new ways. She'd given him a chance when he'd needed help after he'd woken up in third year, despite the fact that his past self had just been horrible to her and her friends. More than that, though, she had believed him. She'd somehow seen past her intense dislike—okay, outright hatred—of him to _hear_ him, to hear that he was truly different. Then she'd allowed him to show her, over the next few years—days to him. And by some miracle, she'd wanted to talk to him after the war, after he'd been responsible for Death Eaters in the school, after she'd been tortured in his home. Once again, she had listened to him, allowed him the time and space to answer her questions. She'd even spent time during which she was furious with him trying to solve his time travel mystery.

Hermione was an exceptional witch, and if she'd let him, he would do everything in his power to convince her to give him a chance.

"He's amazing, Draco. And you seem really comfortable with him."

He chuckled. "Remember that story I told you last time? About the diaper incident? I am comfortable _now_ , but I certainly wasn't then. Not even close. Plus, Astoria was very little help."

"Did she have no part in taking care of him? Did Kippy watch him?" She bounced Scorpius on her knee while he watched her with wide eyes.

"Kippy definitely played a large role. She put him down for naps when I was at work, which was every weekday, and prepared the bottles when Astoria didn't feel like nursing him. She would rather be attached to a milk collection system and spell herself to pump milk than actually nurse him. The thing is… I view my time with Scorpius as a gift and it feels as though Astoria has always considered it a chore. My mother noticed her lack of motherly attention and started coming to visit more frequently. As the years passed and she saw the state of our marriage, she offered to move back, but I said no, that I had it handled." He chuckled bitterly. "I did my best."

"But things are good between you and him now, right? I mean, in your time."

"Oh, yeah. They're great. I just wish I had more time with him. I definitely go to the office less than I used to. I come home to have lunch with him as often as possible." He wondered if this trend had been a factor in the board wanting to replace him. If so, then good riddance.

"It's a little sad that Astoria isn't more involved."

Draco shrugged. "I was annoyed with her about it at one point, but I came to accept it. It's how she was raised, like many of us. My parents were something of an exception, though they certainly messed up." He gave her a significant look. "My mother had to sit me down and explain things one night after a fight between Astoria and me. She explained that being hands-off was very common and considered perfectly acceptable. I remember yelling at her that I wish I'd known the person I was marrying." He shook his head. "I doubt it would have done any good, but it felt good to say."

Hermione was playing a little game with Scorpius, touching his nose and making a soft humming sound as she did. Scorpius seemed surprised every time.

"My mother's words, about how she had grown up, how Astoria had grown up, made me realize something: Scorpius would grow up never knowing anything but magical playmates. Muggle-born children don't find out they're magical until they're eleven, and wizarding children never have a chance to interact with them until they arrive at Hogwarts, potentially after years of being indoctrinated with pureblood dogma."

Her eyes went wide. "Really? You… you thought that?"

"I really did. I thought so much about my own upbringing, how my only companions were purebloods. My parents wouldn't even let me near families like the Weasleys, or any that weren't considered 'pure' by the strictest standards." He shook his head, watching a couple walking by holding hands. "Even someone like Weasley—sorry, _Ron_ —was at something of a disadvantage when he went to Hogwarts. Sure, his family didn't teach him to hate, but he still had no practical knowledge about Muggles or what your life was like before you found out you were a witch. I remember Potter said something once about some awful things that happened to him as a kid, and just… Why doesn't the wizarding world reach out to magical children born to Muggles before they're eleven? Is there some risk that the magic will disappear?"

Hermione was staring at him open-mouthed. She seemed at a loss for words and turned her attention back to Scorpius. Finally, in almost a whisper, she said, "I can't tell you how many times I've had the same thoughts. My childhood was… fraught with tension and insecurity. I covered it up by striving to be the best, the smartest. My parents were slightly afraid of the things I could do, and finding out I was a witch was… Well, I'm not sure how much it helped."

"The Brightest Witch of Our Age." He nudged her with his elbow and smirked. "Do you know how long an age is?"

"There's not really a definition," she replied without hesitation.

Draco laughed and shifted slightly on the bench. "Of course you'd know that."

They were quiet for a few minutes. Hermione was now cooing at Scorpius, who smiled and laughed at the silly faces she was making. Draco's heart constricted. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to do this _with her_ …

He cleared his throat and sat up, his whole body rigid. Where had that thought come from?

"Everything okay?" Her tone was still definitely 'baby talk,' and her eyes were fixed on Scorpius.

"Fine." He forced himself to relax, settling back against the bench but keeping his arms to himself.

After another few moments, Scorpius's smile flipped to a frown. He looked at Draco and held out his arms. Draco grinned and took him from Hermione, sitting him on his lap.

"What do you need, little guy? Are you hungry?" With one hand holding onto Scorpius, he reached into the bag at his side and pulled out a bottle. Then, he gripped the baby carrier tightly where his wand was stowed, pointed the tip to the bottom of the bottle, and cast a Warming Charm. All it took was four seconds, and he counted them carefully—better too cold than too hot.

He tucked Scorpius into the crook of his arm and started feeding him.

"Draco, can I ask you something?"

"Of course." His eyes were locked on his son's. Feeding him was one of the best parts of his days, when he was snuggled up close.

"Are you really going to divorce Astoria?"

He spun his head around to look at her. "What? Why would you ask that?"

She shrugged, kicking her feet at the dirt under the bench. "You just seem… so happy right now. I wondered if maybe you were reconsidering."

He gaped at her, then turned his attention back to Scorpius, who had reached a hand up to grab his shirt. "Um, yes, I really will be divorcing her when I return. Did you forget everything I just said about her?"

"You're just so happy. I've never seen you like this."

Draco chuckled and gave her a sideways grin. "I'm happy because I'm with Scorpius. As a parent, these baby days are so fleeting, so exhausting, and when they're gone, you suddenly have a walking, talking person to contend with. As much as I love him, he was a little terror for a few years! But right now, I get to fully enjoy him and all of his little baby ways, without the stress of being a brand new father." He looked back down at his son. "I don't know any parent who could be anything _but_ elated at a chance to relive this, even for just a day. At least, any parent of older kids. When they start to need you less, you miss these days."

"And… you don't feel, somewhat, that things could be this way once you get back?"

He frowned. "Be what way?"

Hermione threw up her hands, then clasped them in her lap. "I don't know. I'm not making sense. I only wonder if you'll be so happy right now, today, with your family, that you'll want to work to keep it together when you get back." She bit her lip and looked at him, then her eyes widened. "Oh! Not that keeping your family intact would be a bad thing! I only wonder if—"

"If somehow I'll associate the way I feel right now, being happy with Scorpius, with Astoria?" Draco shook his head. "You've no idea. This, today, is simply a pure, happy moment for me. You'll notice that Astoria is nowhere to be found. Even my past self was on to something. I set up an elaborate day for her birthday—she's at a spa with her mother and sisters, gone for a full day of the best pampering money can buy. I'll join them tonight for dinner, where I'll give her yet another piece of the Malfoy family jewels—that she'll happily accept and I won't miss. Then she'll stay there for the night while I head home to keep Scorpius. And every year in the future, that will be my gift to her: letting her be away from us for the whole day."

He hadn't meant to sound bitter, but by the end, it was dripping from his lips. How had he survived ten years with her?

The truth was, he'd become numb—so numb that, while miserable, he was content to continue with his life. It had taken the truly earth-shaking event of seeing her with Theo to wake him up. And just when he'd made a decision about that, Theo had stolen the company from him, leaving him completely adrift. Well, he wasn't going to let that stick. He'd spend the rest of his time catching up to himself figuring out how to move forward.

First, he needed to begin divorce proceedings.

Second, he planned to ask Hermione out—if he didn't botch things up here, in the past. _If_ this even really was the past and not just some elaborately crafted hoax. He had no clue why she featured so heavily, but he was very glad about it.

Third—well, that's what he'd need to work through. Maybe he'd take some time with Scorpius, take him on a trip around England. At least, once school was over.

Something buzzed on the bench, and Hermione grabbed her bag. She dug around inside it until she found what she wanted, then pulled out a pocket watch. "I can't believe the time. It's nearly eleven-thirty!"

"You're joking." He was astonished; they'd been there for nearly two hours. It was by far the longest they'd spent together since the four days during their Hogwarts years, but he felt that he could stay with her for hours more. It was unsettling how rapidly his feelings toward her were evolving.

"No. I'm not. I've got a lunch meeting at noon. I'm so sorry, I don't like to rush away but—"

"I understand." He smiled and stood up. "I'll change Scorpius and then I'll head home. You go on."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I've done this hundreds of times." He pulled out the nappy changing things and set to work. "See you next year? Want to meet here again? I'll plan to bring Scorpius, though if he's talking a lot, it won't be a good idea."

She looked surprised. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Can't have him telling Astoria that Daddy met with a pretty witch at a park, now can I?" He instantly mentally berated himself for calling her pretty.

Hermione's cheeks went pink and she started looking for something in her bag. "I can see how that might be problematic, yes. All right, well, um, I'll see you next year, Draco." She gave a small wave and walked away.

Draco sighed and watched her go until she reached an alley across the street. Then he sat and took his time changing Scorpius's nappy.

When his son was fresh and clean once more, Draco hoisted him into the carrier and strapped him in. "You know, Son. When you find a woman like that, you should go for it. All right? Let's just hope your dad can follow his own advice."

**ooo**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love the feedback and hearing what you're thinking on this. I WILL be responding to reviews. Promise. Thanks for sticking around for this!


	6. Pictures on the Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione! She also did the beautiful graphic. 
> 
> Chapter title from "Rushing Back" by Flume. 
> 
> Hope you are all well and safe.
> 
>   
> 

* * *

**4.26.05**

An incessant tapping woke him completely from a sound sleep. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, but his eyes quickly focused on his bedroom, and his brain caught up.

It was an owl. Startled, he quickly got out of bed and let the bird in. A great big brown barn owl swooped into the room, landed on an owl perch in the corner, then held out his leg. Draco removed a letter and the owl nipped at his hand. He fished a few treats from a pouch hanging from the perch and broke the seal. He didn't recognize the handwriting on the outside, and his curiosity was piqued.

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to meet with you today. Some things came up with work and I can't get out of them. I'm awfully sorry. I wish I could have one of those delicious blueberry scones, but it will have to wait._

_I'm assuming that next year, you'd have to come alone. We could go back there again? Send a reply with this owl._

_I hope you have a lovely day with your son!_

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

The disappointment he felt was severe, but he'd taken for granted that she'd always be able to get time off on the day he was there. In fact, it was pretty remarkable that she'd done it even once, not to mention six times so far.

His day was going to be considerably less interesting already, but Draco got dressed and went to view his memory in the Pensieve. It showed an unremarkable day of passing time in the house until the afternoon, when he went to the office and took Scorpius with him. He saw Astoria only briefly, in the morning, before she left for her birthday outing. In the memory, he saw that Scorpius would most likely be in her room, so when he withdrew from the Pensieve, he went straight there to look for him.

"Come in!" she called when he knocked.

"There you are!" Draco beamed when he saw his son, now eighteen months old, walking around Astoria's room and touching everything he could reach.

"Dada!" Scorpius's face split into a brilliant smile, and he ran across the room, straight into Draco's open arms. He put his hands on Draco's cheeks, his eyes flitting from one of Draco's to the other. "Hi, Dada."

It was all Draco could do not to squash his son in a fierce hug. "Hello, buddy. Are you ready for a day with Daddy?"

"Yesh!" he clapped his hands once then squirmed, letting Draco know that he wanted to get down.

Astoria was watching him with mild interest. "Thank you for the day trip to the French wine country, Draco. My sisters and I will love it." She went to the mirror and looked herself over. "Will you be joining us for dinner? In Paris, perhaps?" Catching his eye in the mirror, she arched an eyebrow in what he guessed was supposed to be a suggestive manner. "We could stay the night, just you and me."

Ah, right. This was still in the period where they occasionally slept together. His memory of this day, however, did not include that, a fact for which he was thankful.

"I'm afraid I can't tonight. There's a big presentation tomorrow I need to prepare for. I'll be taking Scorpius to the office with me this afternoon, and I'm not sure when I'll be done." In his memory, he had taken his son to work after lunch, and Matilda had watched Scorpius until Draco had put him down for a nap in his office and poured over reports for hours. He wanted to keep his day as intact as possible, and the last thing he wanted to do was join Astoria in Paris.

"That's too bad." Her eyes raked over him appreciatively. "Maybe you can make it up to me?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure we can work something out."

Astoria resumed primping in the mirror, then bustled about gathering her things for the day. After a moment, during which Draco amused himself by watching Scorpius inspect a drawer he had managed to open, she seemed to notice he was still there. "Draco, you may go."

He gritted his teeth but didn't say anything, instead, he swept Scorpius up in his arms. "Come on, Score. Let's leave Mummy to get ready for her fun day."

Scorpius waved to Astoria. "Bye, bye, Mummy!"

Draco didn't know quite what to do that morning, but when he glanced out the window of the breakfast room, he saw the line of trees at the far end of the property, the same area where his seven-year-old son wanted to build a tree fort. An idea struck him, and he grinned.

Scorpius was in his chair, contentedly eating his breakfast.

"We're going to do something different today, Score." He grinned at his son, then called for the house-elf. When she appeared, he was so excited he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Kippy. I need you to prepare a picnic lunch for Scorpius and I. We'll need sandwiches and some fruit, water—whatever else you can think of."

Kippy bowed her head. "And for dessert?"

Draco grinned; his elf knew him so well. "I'm sure that whatever you pack for us will be wonderful."

"Kippy will have it ready in seven minutes, Master." She disappeared.

When Scorpius was finished eating, Draco took him along while he packed a small bag for their outing. Scorpius only needed a few nappies and a change of clothes. For himself, Draco changed into something more casual—though at this point in his life, there weren't a lot of options. He also grabbed a towel and a blanket, which he would Charm to be waterproof, plus a pair of sunglasses.

"Ready, Buddy?" Draco took Scorpius by the hand and led him through the house.

With a toddler, it was a long walk across the grounds to reach the woods. Scorpius was pleasant enough, but he kept wanting to stop and look at everything along the way: rocks, grass, flowers, trees, bugs. Draco tried to be patient, but he was growing tired of carrying everything. After stopping for probably the fourteenth time, Draco shrunk everything but the food. That helped considerably, and he tried to remember that the journey was just as important for Scorpius as the destination.

When they reached the woods, their pace slowed even more. Finally, Draco scooped Scorpius into his arms and struggled through the dense underbrush for a few minutes before pulling out his wand and clearing a path. He found the creek without much difficulty and set Scorpius down on the bank. He went straight for the water, his face displaying extreme shock when he sat in the shallows. Draco dipped his fingers in and nearly gasped at how cold it was.

Scorpius had only ever been in warm water, and Draco considered taking him back or casting a Warming Charm, but once the initial shock wore off, Scorpius began splashing around. Draco smiled as he watched him, remembering that his seven-year-old had plunged into the water without hesitation. Draco spread out the blanket and sat down. He didn't need the sunglasses here; the creek was bordered by trees on both sides. He stretched his legs out in front of him, wishing that he had some shorts to wear. It wasn't long before Scorpius was finding rocks and bringing them over to show him.

They stayed by the creek all morning and ate their lunch together. Draco knew that, in his past, he never would have taken his son to play in a creek, and he couldn't recall when it had started. He remembered Scorpius asking one day, maybe when he was about four, to go play in the creek, and Draco had been surprised but had agreed—probably because he knew it would annoy Astoria to no end if she found out. He'd relished imagining the look on her face when Scorpius mentioned that he'd played outside, but then he'd been so surprised at how well his son had taken to the water, to the plants around the creek, and even to the creatures he'd found, that he'd quickly learned to enjoy the experience. They'd spent countless hours there together over the years.

He froze as a thought struck him. What if all of that had actually started today, with him taking an eighteen-month-old Scorpius to the creek because in the future, Draco had taken his older son? He shook his head with a hesitant chuckle.

Time was a tricky thing; he'd probably never know.

If he had to guess, though, he would put money on the option that what he was experiencing was real. Everything felt too real, and time passed just as it always did. If it were some sort of elaborate potion or Charm, wouldn't it feel like time moved differently? Either dragging too slowly or slipping past without him noticing? Instead, he could clearly remember the last eleven days in startling detail.

He had a fleeting idea to write them all down, but he didn't think it would do him any good at this point. Nothing he had with him when he went to sleep ever made the trip forward; he always woke up in different clothing, so anything he might try to put in a pocket would simply remain behind—and that wouldn't do for his past self to find.

However… yes, maybe he could hide a journal somewhere in the Manor, concealed both physically and magically. He'd done it with the Muggle money just fine. Then every year, he could write in it, and he'd find it waiting for him when he returned to his normal time. It would be wonderful to put down his experience in writing; Hermione had said she'd read his story, maybe others would, too.

It was certainly an unusual experience. Although, there was no way to confirm if it had happened before. Maybe it had. Maybe the people who went through it simply never spoke of it.

"Dada!"

Draco, who had been lost in thought and not paying attention, looked up just in time to watch his son pour a cup of ice cold creek water all over his stomach.

"Ahh!" Draco cried out from sheer shock at how cold the water was.

Scorpius jumped, alarmed, his big eyes looking at Draco.

Draco felt bad for startling him and smiled, pulling Scorpius onto his lap and kissing his head. "I'm all right, the cold was a big surprise. But now I'm all wet." He checked his watch. "And it's probably a bit past time to head back. I got distracted." He stood up and, with a sweep of his wand, packed their things. Now that the food was gone, he shrunk the picnic basket, too. "How about a ride on Daddy's shoulders?"

"Yesh!" Scorpius held his arms up.

Draco easily swung him onto his shoulders and started back for the house. Scorpius seemed to enjoy sitting up so high, if his laughs and giggles were anything to go by. The trip back went much quicker than the trip to the creek, and Draco hurried to change and get Scorpius ready to go.

When he arrived at the office with his son in tow, Matilda's whole face lit up.

"Oh, you've brought little Mr. Malfoy! What do you need me to do?" She reached her hands out and Scorpius instantly went to her.

"I think he'll nap soon, but if you could watch him for just a few minutes while I set up his sleeping area, that would be lovely." She'd already set Scorpius on her desk and he was examining the items on display.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco headed down the hall toward his office and felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The entire office space, including the lobby and hallway, had been remodeled since the last time he was there. He'd seen it when he'd skimmed his memory of the day, but hadn't thought much of it. Now, though, standing in the hallway, he felt a strange sense of foreboding. Today would be the first time he'd set foot in the office as it had looked the day he was sent back.

He slowed down and listened at the door. He heard nothing, of course; Astoria was safely in France by now on her winery tour. Still, he slowly opened his door, his eyes darting immediately to where his desk stood in the dark. Draco walked over to it, examining the papers spread across the surface. Just as he'd seen in his memory, they were papers pertaining to the meeting the following morning.

But he left everything untouched and went to a large bookcase that stood on the wall opposite the door. Nothing on the shelves would help him, but in the cabinets below, he might just find what he was after.

Finally, on the fourth cabinet, he found a small stack of journals amongst the office supplies. Gingerly, Draco removed the top journal and shut the cabinet. Taking it to the austere sofa in his office, he sat down and opened the book, flipping through the pages to make sure they weren't used. Then he cast a series of spells to ensure that they hadn't been enchanted in any way.

All his spells came back clean.

With a sigh of relief, Draco collected a quill and ink bottle and took them back to the sofa. He'd just opened it to begin writing when Matilda walked in.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. He's awfully fussy."

Draco jumped up. "I completely forgot to set up his crib. You can set him down, I've got it from here. Thank you."

Scorpius must have known what was coming because as soon as Matilda put him down, he started bawling louder.

Draco hurried to set up the sleeping area he'd prepared many times before when he'd needed to bring Scorpius to the office. The crib was folded up nicely and tucked into a closet. Draco flicked his wand and it flew across the room, opening itself as it gently landed on the floor. Another series of flicks brought all of the bedding out of the closet and onto the bed.

Once the room was ready, Draco adjusted the blinds so they weren't shining directly into the crib. Then he turned out the lights in his office save for a single candle, which he set on the coffee table by the sofa.

Scorpius watched the flying furniture with fascination, his cries momentarily halted. Draco picked him up and set him on the sofa.

"Nap time, Score."

The boy's lower lip trembled and he rubbed his eyes. "I not tired, Dada."

Draco chuckled as he worked to change his nappy. Once Scorpius was clean and ready, Draco put him in the crib. "Daddy's right here. Sleep well, Score."

Thankfully, Scorpius's busy morning meant that he fell asleep quickly. Draco returned to the sofa and opened to the first page of the journal. He hesitated, wondering how to begin. He tried to imagine he was writing to Hermione rather than thinking about starting to write a book. Then the words began to flow, and he spent the entirety of Scorpius's nap writing.

He put everything onto the page, every feeling, every hope, every disappointment, starting from the day he'd walked in on Astoria and Theo.

That whole evening was devoted to the journal too as he sat beside the fireplace with a glass of Firewhiskey. Before heading to bed, he loosened a board beside the fireplace and slipped the journal into it. Then he fell asleep, excited to tell Hermione all about his work.

* * *

**4.26.06**

"Dada. Wake up."

Draco cracked an eye open and found his son staring at him, his face mere inches away. "Hey, Score."

"I let an owl in."

"You... What?"

Scorpius pointed at a perch in the corner. Sitting on it was a brown owl, similar enough to the one Hermione had sent the year before that his stomach lurched in anticipation.

"Oh. Thanks, Buddy." He pushed himself out of bed, and as soon as he was up, Scorpius crawled into his spot. Draco rubbed his head and yawned as he crossed the room. The owl held out its leg and Draco untied the note. As soon as he had the parchment, the owl flew out the open window.

Draco frowned, then shut the window after it. He felt extremely uneasy as he began to unfold the note.

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to meet with you anymore. I truly wish you all the best._

_Hermione  
_

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He stared at the note, rereading it three times before finally crumpling it up.

"Dada? Was it a bad letter?"

Draco looked at his son, snuggled under the covers and peering at him with wide, brown eyes. He didn't really want to think about the letter just now, so he returned to the bed and smiled as he got in. "The letter just means I get to spend the whole day with you."

Scorpius's eyes lit up. "What are we going to do?"

"I think we'll go to the creek. After you tell your mother happy birthday."

Scorpius nodded very importantly. "Is it Mummy's birthday?"

"Yes. Today she's going on a cruise with her sisters. I don't think we'll see her again until tomorrow." Draco propped his head on his elbow and watched his son. Scorpius was thinking very carefully, his tiny brow furrowed with the effort.

"Sometimes I miss her. But I'm glad I have you, Daddy." With that, Scorpius snuggled close to Draco and within seconds, his breathing had evened out.

Draco let his head fall back onto the pillow. He had meant to try and go back to sleep, but now that Scorpius was sleeping beside him, his mind began to spin. He glanced at a clock on the wall to see that it wasn't even seven. Why had Hermione sent him an owl so early in the morning? It was as confusing as it was disappointing.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that he'd see her again once he caught up to himself, but the reality was, it stung. He'd thought their last day together had been one of the best, but then she'd canceled on him the previous year, and now it seemed as though she was finished with him. He thought back to that last day, when he'd taken Scorpius to meet her in the park, going over and over their conversation, looking for some clue as to why she'd backed away.

Nothing jumped out at him and, frustrated, he got out of bed to shower. Scorpius was just stirring when Draco returned to his room. Scorpius's bed, which had been brought into Draco's room about six months before, was across the room, the golden snitch sheets twisted and the pillow hanging off the bed, nearly touching the floor.

"Dada? Are we still going to the creek?"

Draco grinned at the sight of his son, hair sticking straight up where his head had been resting on the pillow. "Absolutely. Let's go see your mother first, and then we'll get ready to go."

**ooo**

Later, while Scorpius slept hard after spending four hours at the creek, Draco went to his study and found the piece of wood behind which he'd hidden the journal of his adventure the year before. He hadn't expected anything to happen to it, but there had been a small part of him that doubted whether it would still be there. He had no clue what was happening to him, and just because Hermione seemed to remember him from year to year didn't mean that anything else would change.

Still, it was a relief to find it right where he'd left it, and he took it out with a kind of reverence. He'd poured a little bit of himself into the pages, and he was ready to pick up the narrative where he'd left off. Scorpius's nap was another long one, and Draco barely paused in his writing the entire time.

After about three hours, Kippy came to tell him that Scorpius was awake. She had a stack of what looked like mail in her hand, and as she moved, something she was holding caught his eye. "Kippy, what have you got there?"

The elf held up the stack. "This is mail for Mistress Astoria, Sir. I was leaving it in her room when I heard the young Master wake."

"May I see it?" He held his hand out and Kippy gave it over. "Thank you, Kippy. I'll take this to her room myself, as I'm headed that way. Please stay with Scorpius until I arrive."

"Yes, Master." Kippy made a short bow and disappeared.

What had caught his eye was a copy of _Witch Weekly_ , but that wasn't precisely what had drawn his attention. No, he'd seen a flash of big, brown eyes and a dazzling smile—a smile that looked awfully familiar. He almost didn't want to look for fear he would see something he wouldn't like. Yet he couldn't stop himself.

There, on the front page, was Hermione.

She was dressed in a blush colored dress, and her hair was pinned up in an elaborate hairstyle with diamonds flashing from the pins that held her beautiful curls in place. He could have stared at the photo all day as she smiled and waved shyly to the photographer. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only person in the photo. A tall wizard was beside her, and Draco recognized him immediately: Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The headline read: _Has Hermione Granger Found Love at Last?_

Everything in him screamed not to read the article, but he couldn't help himself. He skimmed it and learned that she and Krum had been seen together on multiple occasions, and according to the author of the article, she looked increasingly radiant in Krum's presence. The article went on to detail their history during the Triwizard Tournament and included a timeline of their renewed romance.

Draco felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. He couldn't take his eyes off the picture of her, so beautiful, so radiant—just as the article had said. Merlin, how had it taken him so long in his own timeline to begin to notice her? She was stunning, and she probably had no idea how beautiful she was.

He was examining the timeline in more detail when he felt the back of his shirt being tugged.

"Dada?"

Draco turned around and swept his son into his arms. "Yes, Scorpius?" He immediately started tickling his son's tummy, and Scorpius giggled and tried to push his hand away. "What is it, Score? What did you want?" He continued to tickle him, grinning as Scorpius laughed and fought increasingly hard to keep Draco's hand away. "Why aren't you talking, Son?"

"Dada! Stop!" Draco's hand stilled and Scorpius's laughter subsided. "I want to watch you fly, Dada. Will you? Kippy and I will watch you fly."

He adopted a very stern yet exaggerated expression. "Oh, Score, you know how Daddy feels about flying, don't you?"

"Yes! You love flying! Grandfather Lucy gave you a new broom for Christmas, remember?"

Draco laughed out loud; it had been years since Scorpius had referred to Lucius as 'Grandfather Lucy.' He'd struggled with Lucious's name since he could talk. Draco and his mother had never been able to keep a straight face at the adorable moniker Scorpius had adopted. And so, the name had stuck, at least until Scorpius was old enough to realize that he'd been mispronouncing his grandfather's name and corrected it himself.

"That's right, he did. And I'd love to fly a little bit." He set Scorpius on the ground and took his hand. "Let's go."

**ooo**

That night, once dinner with Astoria was suffered through and Scorpius was asleep, Draco considered continuing the journal. He quickly dismissed this idea, however; he'd already devoted his afternoon to it. He realized, with a jolt of sadness, that he'd better find something to occupy himself, since he wouldn't be spending the day—or any foreseeable days—with Hermione. With a sigh, he realized it might be time to try and figure out just what had happened with Theo.

Maybe there was a clue in the past he could find; Theo hadn't suddenly decided one day to screw him over. There had to be a reason. The problem was, Draco had no idea where to begin looking.

Theo wasn't even an employee yet, so there was no personnel file to look through. He'd have to look again in a few years once he'd hired him.

Draco sat up. Even though Theo hadn't been hired yet, he still had his memories. Draco himself had interviewed his former friend after hearing that he was having trouble finding work. He'd reached out and offered Theo a chance. Quickly, he retrieved the Pensieve and drew out the pertinent threads. However, after watching his interactions with Theo over the years for an hour, nothing stood out except the initial interview. Theo had seemed extremely nervous, which Draco had concluded was because of the interview. Most people were nervous for job interviews, and Draco, as the head of the company, didn't normally conduct them. But he'd wanted to catch up with his friend a bit, and the conversation had gone quite well by the end.

Draco went to his father's study, thinking there might be something deeper at work. Lucius had been a Death Eater who'd escaped relatively unscathed, mainly because he hadn't fought in the final battle. Most of those who had been apprehended had served or were still serving long prison sentences, and their fortunes were severely depleted thanks to reparations demanded by the Ministry. The Malfoys had paid theirs and then some, and it hadn't significantly affected their vaults.

Of course their penalty had been smaller than many, largely due to Narcissa's role in the whole thing. She'd stated in her trial that she wanted to be part of the rebuilding effort, which is why they'd ended up giving three times what they'd been required to pay.

Narcissa made sure they were the first to donate to any needy causes, anonymously, though by now, everybody knew where the over large sums came from.

Theo's father had fought beside Voldemort to the very end, and his sentence had been harsh. He had only been out of prison for three years in Draco's present, but he was still on probation and not allowed to leave the country; in this time, he was still safely locked away.

Draco sighed, his eyes drifting over everything in his father's desk. He didn't use this room, had never even entered it, preferring to leave it undisturbed until his father might be allowed to return. A quick glance at the desktop revealed nothing obvious, so he decided to look inside of it.

As he neared the desk, however, he felt something in the air around him, as though he'd walked through a strong ward. Instantly on alert, he pulled out his wand and waited. When nothing happened, he cast a basic spell for detecting dark magic, but again, nothing happened. He felt drawn to the desk, however, and it occurred to him that it was possible his father had been the one to place the wards.

Cautiously, he started going through the drawers, hoping something would stand out to him.

When he opened the bottom right drawer, he felt another ripple of magic, and his heart rate quickened. He had to force his hands to remain steady as he pulled out a packet of papers bound together by a spell that manifested as a shiny, magical ribbon.

He used his wand to slice the ribbon, and it disappeared with a little burst of sparks. On the very top was a detailed checklist and inventory of everything in the small stack. The checklist listed only business related things—budgets, personnel files, a diagram of the business structure, a list of holdings, etc.—so he didn't spend much time on it. Setting that aside, he began to carefully sift through the rest. Everything appeared perfectly ordinary, though clearly there was some sensitive information included, documents Lucius had only wanted his son to see. Nothing seemed even remotely helpful until he came to an envelope with his name on it wedged between some financial reports. He recognized his father's handwriting, and his pulse picked up.

Sliding open the seal, Draco removed the contents, comprising a leaf of parchment—a letter to him from his father—and a handful of smaller notes. His eyes widened as he read what his father had written him so many years before.

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_This must stay out of any records. I've included all of the correspondence sent by Bradford Nott. In short, he approached me some time ago, reminding me that, at one time, he had been in line to take over Malfoy Industries in England, should something happen to me._

_This was many years ago, before you were born and then when you were small. There was always the understanding, at least in my mind, that, should I have a child, the leadership would fall that way. Nott, however, did not accept this. He wrote to me when my sentence was pronounced, suggesting that I should turn the business over to him, since I would no longer be able to oversee it. I refused, thinking one day you would take control. He didn't like that and suggested his son could work in his place, since he would be spending the next decade in Azkaban. Naturally, I refused again, reminding him that I had a son fully capable and equal to the task._

_You can see from his messages, which I stopped responding to, that his anger grew and his suggestions began to sound more like threats. I took some precautions to ensure that he couldn't interfere with you, but very little in this world is certain. I'm telling you this so you can be forewarned. Keep an eye on Nott when he is released from prison. If he ever gives you trouble, write to me immediately._

_I know that you are immensely capable of taking charge of the company, and I have every faith in you. I also know that this isn't what you'd hoped for your life, and it is my fervent desire that you won't be asked to run the company forever. I will be working from France to reverse my banishment, and it is my goal to return home someday—though I cannot possibly say when that might be._

_If you ever need anything, you have but to ask._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Father_

**-ooo-ooo-ooo-**

Draco stared at the paper, his thoughts spinning. Could this be Theo's motivation? His father felt slighted by Lucius, and as revenge, he came in and somehow wrested the company from Draco?

He knew the pressures of expectation, and he knew Theo's family was a lot worse off than his own. It would make sense for him to try and take what he felt was rightfully his, even though, of course, it wasn't. Theo's father apparently believed that Lucius had wronged him, and Theo would certainly believe his own father. Draco knew too well about that.

Before any shred of sympathy for Theo could develop, Draco remembered the day he'd caught his former friend with Astoria. There had been no remorse in his eyes, only defiance, a dare to say something.

He'd need to check in on Theo in the future if at all possible. Though, knowing the motivation still wasn't enough to help him understand _how_ he did it.

The real question was, did it matter? There was likely nothing Draco could do to stop it. He only had one day a year, and in that time, he'd have to figure out what Theo did _and_ somehow find a way to prevent it. The thought was daunting; what could he possibly do in a day?

But he wasn't sure he even wanted to, if he was honest with himself. It had never been his life goal, as his father mentioned, and if he prevented Theo's treachery, what would happen to his own future?

He might never have occasion to stumble upon Theo and Astoria; Theo might never somehow take over the company. Who knows if or when he'd have woken up from the nightmare that was his life?

Draco carefully folded all of the notes from Nott Sr. and tucked them inside Lucius's letter. With no regrets, he tucked everything back into the drawer where he'd found it. It felt really good to finally put the issue behind him; he was curious, of course, but even if he knew, he wouldn't change a thing.

* * *

**4.26.07**

Draco hadn't really expected a note from Hermione when he woke, but he had hoped for one nonetheless. He was up early, awake before Scorpius, who was still sleeping in his bed across the room. Draco relished the quiet so he could come to terms with this change in his fortunes without being interrupted every two minutes. He loved his son, naturally, but children weren't often content to let their parents have long stretches of uninterrupted time to think.

Hermione hadn't been with Krum in the future. He knew for a fact that she was single the entire time she was Scorpius's teacher. She might have dated here and there, but nothing ever made headlines. Of course, he hadn't kept tabs on her dating life then—though, now he wished he had. Had Krum broken her heart? He remembered how much Krum had fancied Hermione that year at Hogwarts, how he had asked everyone in Slytherin about her. They'd all been hesitant to say anything negative about her for fear of alienating the Quidditch star.

Then, a thought struck him which made his blood feel like ice in his veins.

_What if, through befriending her, he had changed the course of her life? What if she'd never start the school? What if she'd find love and Draco would end up in his timeline only to discover that she was happily married with children?_

It would be a cruel twist to bring him to the point where he wanted to fall in love with her, only to discover that she was completely out of his reach.

The good thing was, his time with Scorpius was truly a gift, as he'd told Hermione before. He was happy spending his time with his son, and he resolved to make this the best creek trip ever.


	7. All the Eyes I Have Looked Into

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione, for the stellar work as usual, PLUS this beautiful graphic!!!
> 
> Chapter title comes from "Rushing Back" by Flume.
> 
>   
> 

**A/N:** I'm so sorry this came a wee bit late! The holiday in the US threw me off today. But it's still Thursday in half the US, so that counts for something, right? Anyway, hope you enjoy this!

* * *

**4.26.08**

Draco woke up to something heavy and solid falling onto his body.

"Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! It's creek day!" Scorpius then proceeded to bounce on him, relentlessly, until Draco had no choice but to grab him and throw him onto the mattress beside him. He tickled his son mercilessly while Scorpius shrieked with delight and tried to roll away. But Draco was too quick; he let Scoprius _think_ he was getting away, only to grab him at the last second and toss him back down, where he continued his assault.

Finally, they were both laughing and breathing hard, and Draco flopped onto the bed beside Scorpius.

When their laughter died down, Draco sat up. "So you want to go to the creek today, is that right?"

"Yes!" As though he hadn't just wrestled until he was breathless, Scorpius bounded up and started jumping on Draco's bed. "Creek! Creek! Creek!"

Draco chuckled and reached for Scorpius's arm, grabbing it and pulling him back down. They started to wrestle again, but there was a tapping at the window.

"Is that an owl?" Scorpius asked.

"Looks like it. Want to let it in?"

Scorpius nodded eagerly and jumped up, unlatching the window so the bird could fly in. It went straight to the perch and sat regally, watching them.

Draco felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach. The only letters he'd received immediately upon waking had been from Hermione, and neither of them had been pleasant. The owl hooted impatiently, and Draco sighed, pushing himself off the bed.

He crossed the room and removed the note; this time, the owl waited, and Draco's heart started pounding. He recognized Hermione's tidy writing on the envelope and took a deep breath before opening it.

_Draco,_

_Could we possibly meet this morning? The usual place, usual time? Please send a reply with this owl._

_Hermione_

Draco carried the note over to his bed and sank heavily onto it. He frowned at the parchment, trying to read everything that wasn't written there. Why did she want to meet? It had been four years for her, and she'd made it quite clear she didn't want to see him. Maybe she was getting married and she wanted to tell him in person—but that didn't make sense because she was single in the future.

"Daddy? What is it?" Scorpius crawled up on the bed beside him and looked at the note as though he could read it.

"It's… a note from an old friend. Wanting to meet me."

"Does that mean we can't go to the creek?" Scorpius's eyes were wide; Draco could tell that he was trying not to be disappointed.

"Of course not! We are absolutely going to the creek. It might mean that we go a little later than usual, that's all. Is Grand'Mere here, by any chance?" Draco knew that, as Scorpius got older, Narcissa had started visiting more often, but he wasn't sure when exactly that had happened.

Scorpius shook his head. "No. Just Mother. And Kippy."

Draco cringed hearing Scorpius refer to Astoria as Mother. When had that happened? The day before, he'd called her Mum. "All right. I'll ask Kippy to watch you for a bit while I go and meet with this friend. It shouldn't take long, though. While I'm gone, you and Kippy can pack our picnic basket so it's all ready to go when I return."

"Yes! That's a good plan, Daddy!" He hopped off the bed and ran for the door, shouting, "Kippy!"

Two seconds later, the elf appeared. Draco was laughing at his son. "Kippy, I have to run out for a bit just before nine thirty, and I need you to watch Scorpius. We'll be going to the creek when I return, so I'd like you to have a basket ready for us."

"Yes, Master. Of course, Sir."

It was eight thirty; Draco had about an hour to get ready, so he showered quickly, got dressed, and joined Scorpius for breakfast. With five minutes to spare, he kissed his son on the forehead and Disapparated, landing in the same alley they had used before.

Steeling himself, wondering what she could possibly want, Draco headed into the café. Sure enough, there she was, sitting in their usual spot and looking more breathtaking than ever. He took a deep breath and headed toward their corner.

Hermione looked up when she saw him approach and her eyes shone. She gripped her mug and sat up straighter in her chair.

Draco pulled his chair out, the legs scraping on the floor. "Hello."

"Hi." Her voice belied her confident demeanor. She bit her lip and hesitantly met his gaze.

As disappointed as he'd been when she'd told him she didn't want to see him anymore, it had only been four days in his time since he'd last seen her. For her, it had been four years. She was, in some ways, probably a very different person. He wouldn't hold whatever had led to her distancing from him against her. After all, something had caused her to reach out again.

She picked up the menu and began looking at it. "They've got some new menu items. What are you going to have?"

"I'll probably just order tea. I ate breakfast with Scorpius."

"Oh!" She lowered the menu so she could look at him then, her eyes bright and excited. "How is he? He's… what, four now?"

Draco nodded. "He's four, yes."

"I suppose I can't see him because of what he might say."

A shadow of a frown rippled across his face; he couldn't imagine why she'd care. Yes, she had enjoyed meeting Scorpius as an infant, but if she'd really wanted to see him, she could have made some effort since then.

Maybe he was a little more sour at her than he'd realized.

"No, he's definitely too curious for his own good. He'd have dozens of questions for me, and then he'd tell his mother all about 'Daddy's friend,' and then _she'd_ have questions, and I'm not willing or interested in risking any changes to my timeline."

The server came then, and her eyes widened. "It's you two!"

Draco and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Um, what do you mean?" Hermione asked with a forced smile.

"I mean, for five years, you two came here and sat at this table." She rolled her eyes. "Well, that's not quite right. Last time, you just got food to go, but you had the baby, so it made sense. Hope you dont think I'm weird for noticing; I'm just like that. I know my customers. Don't get me wrong, I wish I hadn't been working here that long, it wasn't the plan when I started, let me tell you, but it's a decent job. And I've got to put my kids through school, so I do what I have to." She shrugged. "Anyway, what would you like?"

Draco wished he could eat an entire second breakfast just to help her out. He'd completely forgotten about Olivia, the server who remembered them year after year since they'd started meeting at this cafe. "I'll have a croissant and a cup of English breakfast, please."

Hermione closed her menu and smiled. "Quiche Florentine, a side of fruit, and a chai tea, please."

"It'll be out shortly." The server beamed at them and walked away.

"I had no idea she would miss us." Hermione chuckled and tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear.

He shook his head. "Me either. It's not like we came here a lot."

"No, only once a year. I suppose we were memorable?"

Neither spoke, and the silence became awkward. Draco noticed Hermione biting her lip and frowning, and he wondered if she were trying to find something to say. But he didn't feel like she should apologize for anything.

He leaned forward on the table and clasped his hands. "Listen, Hermione. If there's something I said last time, or something I did… or didn't say, didn't do… then please tell me what it was so I can apologize for it."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh! Draco, no—it wasn't you at all, it was completely and entirely me. I… I just needed—"

Draco held up a hand. "As I told you days ago—or, years, you know what I mean—you don't owe me anything. I know we fell into a habit of meeting up on this particular day, but there was never any rule saying we _had_ to."

She glanced down at her lap, hiding her face from view. "I know that. It's important to me that you know, though, that nothing you did or said—or didn't do or didn't say—led to me… avoiding our meetings the last few years."

He smiled at her, wanting more than anything to simply put it behind them.

"Where's the baby?" Olivia arrived with the food, setting their dishes before them.

"He's… at home. With a… sitter." Draco had to stop himself from saying that Scorpius was being watched by a house-elf. That would be a disaster; though, chances were, the server wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Aw, you'll have to bring him in next time! I bet he's so big by now! Enjoy your food."

When she was gone, Hermione snickered. "I take it he's not with Astoria?"

"Kippy, actually." He checked his watch. "And I can't stay long, I'm afraid. I wasn't expecting an owl from you, so I had to scramble with arrangements for him."

"I hadn't thought of that. I forgot that on Astoria's birthday, she basically wants nothing to do with either of you." Hermione frowned at her quiche.

The bitterness in her tone surprised him, but he didn't mention it. His croissant was warm and fresh, and steam escaped when he pulled it apart. He spread a generous serving of butter all over the exposed end, then dipped it into the raspberry jam that came with it. It was incredible. He'd have to order a few extra to take on his picnic.

"So what did you want to meet about?" It was the question he'd been dying to ask since he sat down.

"Oh! That!" She quickly finished her bite, set down her fork, took a drink of tea, and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "Yes. Well, it's just… I had to ask you something. Did you… did you _know?_ When you said all of that about Scorpius and not wanting him to grow up with only magical children… I'm assuming you knew, because I've been talking with you—past you—about it for almost seven months now. Occasionally, I mean."

He raised an eyebrow. "Did I know what, exactly?"

"That you'd be putting an idea into my head! About starting a school for magical children from all backgrounds."

"What?" Draco didn't try to hide his surprise. "Oh, um, no, I had no idea. I mean, I knew that you started the school, but I never knew why or what gave you the idea."

Hermione laughed then. "That's so funny, because it was _you_ who first planted the seed! Four years ago today, in fact. In the park down the street."

He nodded carefully. "I remember your name showing up on my calendar one day. I don't make my own appointments, for the most part, and when Matilda—she's my assistant—handed me the schedule one day, your name was there. I was most confused and asked her about it. She told me she didn't know what you wanted. I remember being anxious all day; I hadn't seen you since my trial. I couldn't fathom why you'd sought a meeting with me."

"This… time traveling you're doing, it's rather strange. I was fairly confident, going into that meeting, that you'd be receptive to my idea, based on what we'd talked about a few years ago, but I was so very nervous about it." She paused and bit her lip, her eyes searching his. "I told you a few years ago that I'd seen you in Diagon Alley once, and that I'd hoped, somehow, that when you saw me… _something_ would strike you. Nothing had that day, but I wondered about when we'd actually be talking, interacting? Would there be something to indicate that you remembered things?" She shook her head. "It was ridiculous, because _that_ version of you wasn't the one traveling through time, so of course he wouldn't have…"

"I was rather supportive, I believe." Considering that he'd known of her for most of his life, he'd been wary, but he remembered her proposal had alleviated a great weight he'd felt growing ever since Scorpius was a baby. He'd been deeply involved in some company projects then—a merger or two, a takeover, and branching into a new area—so he hadn't really _noticed_ her then. She'd been simply a surprise blip on his otherwise monotonous radar, but it hadn't been enough to cause much disturbance.

"Yes! You were. Quite so. You encouraged the idea, gave me a list of people to approach and suggestions for securing funding. That meeting gave me everything I needed to move forward with the idea."

Draco smiled. "I'm glad. If memory serves, we met a few times over the course of the year?"

She sat up straight, her eyes bright. "We've now met four times. And you even told me that you'd be sending Scorpius to the school." A slight smile played on her lips. . "Is that how I know him in the future? Will he really be attending my school?"

"I hope there's no harm done with this, but yes. Astoria and I managed to have a conversation long enough that we agreed to send him. I think part of her was happy at the thought of having someone else being in charge of his education." He scowled slightly. "Which was probably for the best, anyway."

Hermione nodded, lost in thought. "The first year of the school begins in September. We've already identified eight Muggle-born children, and I'll be visiting each of them over the next few months to meet their parents and invite them to the school."

"Will they all be just starting school?"

"Yes, they'll all be five before the first of September. It's a bit daunting, honestly, but I've never been happier with how I spend my time."

Draco chewed his last bite of croissant thoughtfully. "What happened with the Ministry? I never heard how that came to an end."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I grew tired of butting my head against a wall. Nothing I tried—nothing!—made any kind of difference."

"I take it you never spoke to Kippy? I think I'd have remembered if you had."

"No, I couldn't even get to that stage." She sighed. "I left the Ministry about two and a half years ago. I spent a little time traveling, just being alone with myself, listening to the voice inside me telling me what _I_ wanted to do. I asked for advice from people I care about, people I respect. In the end, though, what you'd said to me wouldn't leave me alone. Teaching has always appealed to me, but in a nebulous way. This, though… I think it's perfect."

"I'm very glad to hear that. I remember being excited at the idea and also apprehensive." He chuckled. "Here you were, offering exactly what I'd been thinking about myself since my son was born. I even went so far as to wonder if you'd read my thoughts somehow."

Her laughter was like bells tinkling in a summer breeze. He wanted to mentally slap himself for having such a sappy thought.

"So you wanted to ask me about the school?" He smiled. "I hope I've answered you satisfactorily."

"You have, but that wasn't the only reason I wanted to see you."

She paused and it was enough of a silence to make his heart start pounding, allowing his thoughts to drift to wondering about the state of affairs with her heart. He'd pointedly refused to search for information on her love life, but he now glanced quickly to her hands and felt immense relief upon finding her fingers devoid of rings.

"I also wanted to... mend the rift I created. It would appear that we're going to be... interacting in the future, and I thought... We should be friendly again."

_Friendly_.

His smile was tight. "There's no need. If it's me you're worried about, remember it's only been a few days."

"I think I asked you once if we were friends in the future." She leaned over the table, her gaze fixed upon him in a curious and unsettling way. " What did you say?"

Draco cleared his throat. "We aren't friends. We are friendly, as you said, when we interact, but we don't spend time together. Not like this." He indicated the café around them.

Hermione bit her lip, an action that was beginning to draw his attention. "Do you think that will change?"

"Do I think what will change?"

"You know, when you... catch up to yourself. Will we be friends then? Like we have been for one day a year since third year?"

Oh, how desperately he wanted to walk around the table, pull her out of her chair, and kiss her— _soundly—_ until he forgot everything but the feel of her lips. Naturally, he couldn't tell her that he wanted so much more than her friendship.

"I see no reason why not." He casually sipped from his tea, noticing that he was nearing the end. He'd tried to make it last a long time, because even though, for him, it had only been four days since he saw her, at the same time, somehow, it also felt like four years. He could almost feel the long span of time, see it in her face.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. "We can keep meeting on April 26th, at the very least. Oh! I've just realized! If you actually do divorce Astoria, it will be much easier to meet. And you can bring Scorpius! We could spend the whole day together!"

"Oh, right. Astoria. It's her birthday." He shook his head with a chuckle.

"Where is she today?"

Draco frowned. "I'm not sure, we didn't even visit her this morning. Wait, hang on…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember where he'd sent her when Scorpius was four. Then it came to him. "Oh, she's with her sisters and a friend at the Malfoy villa on Lake Como."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Your… family has a villa on Lake Como?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I'd forgotten about it until I was desperate to find somewhere for her to go." Draco's watch beeped once, and he looked down at it, startled to see that it read ten-twenty-five. "Oh, wow. I told Scorpius I wouldn't be gone longer than an hour. I have to go."

"I see. Well, all right, you go ahead then. I'll take care of things here."

Draco pulled a Galleon from his pocket. "I don't have anything smaller, sorry."

"That's all right. Um, so, next year? Same time?" She forced a smile that was too wide and jerked her thumb toward the counter. "Wouldn't want to let our new friend there down."

He masked his surprise and the subsequent thrill that she wanted to meet him again. It felt different this time, like there was more behind her words, something extra in her eyes. He refused to consider that she might feel something for him. It wouldn't be wise at this point, since he still has three years—three days—to get through before he learned his fate.

"All right. I'll do my best to be sure my mother is in town next year. Only, we should meet for lunch instead. I'll be taking Scorpius to the creek in the morning so she can watch him after."

"Lunch is good, lunch works." She let out a breath, relaxing into the beginnings of a smile. "Maybe one? It's a weekend, so I won't have to worry about the school."

Draco nodded and stood. "Sounds great. I'll see you then. Bye, Hermione."

**ooo**

The first thing Draco did when he got back to the Manor was make a note in his calendar for the following year to be sure his mother would be visiting for Astoria's birthday. It would be a Sunday, so he wouldn't have to concern himself with work. Making plans again for the next year felt strange and somehow different from all the other times before. Maybe it was because it came after she had distanced herself and then wanted to resume their relationship—or whatever it was.

He was probably making more out of it than he should. With a chuckle and a light reprimand to himself, he shut his planner and went to find Scorpius.

**ooo**

Draco still had one question about Theo. Why had he gone after Astoria? Had that been part of his plan, to seduce her and further stab Draco in the back? Did he even truly care about her?

Maybe they had fallen in love, independent of his aspirations for streaming the company. Theo had probably promised her everything Draco wouldn't, though Draco truly had no idea what would even make Astoria happy. She had never told him. He knew one thing very clearly: it hadn't been him.

Draco realized that he should watch some of his memories to try and puzzle out what had happened with Theo, but to do that, he needed some kind of starting point. They'd been friends in school, though not very close; he hadn't known details about Draco's plan in sixth. But in seventh, they'd formed a tight bond because they, along with Blaise, were the only Slytherin students who were averse to all the extrajudicial punishments being meted out by teachers and fellow students.

Blaise had somehow escaped the terror or any reprisals for his refusal to be involved. Draco had always suspected it had something to do with his mother, but he'd never found anything out.

Since Blaise never experienced the terror, he couldn't commiserate with Draco and Theo, hence the two of them forming a very strong bond. At least, Draco had _thought_ it was strong.

After the war, they'd returned for eighth year together, and even though they remained friends, some of the closeness was lost. Draco now wondered if it was because they had seen each other in very weak moments. Once the threat was over, maybe Theo couldn't stand that someone had seen him at his lowest. Draco had absolutely felt some of that, as well.

So they had been friends but not as close as during their seventh year. After school ended, they definitely drifted apart, but Draco never felt any sort of animosity toward him. He searched his memory for some clue about Theo's behavior but genuinely could not come up with anything.

Next, he started pulling out memories of past interactions with Theo. He watched them one after the other to see if he could find any clues. Nothing showed up until he came to the memory of his wedding day to Astoria. It was very brief, but there was a moment where he saw Theo glaring at him, then looking at Astoria as though she was everything to him.

He watched the very short scene over and over again and could only conclude that Theo had been in love with her. Whether or not he still was, Draco didn't know, but it stood to reason that he would be. Why else would he go to the extreme effort to be with her? Maybe he thought if he took over the Malfoy industries he could provide Astoria with the same life that she was used to and essentially take Draco's place.

He had to wonder, of course, if Astoria had been in love with Theo for just as long. Had she married Draco against her wishes just as he had married her against his? What a mess. Still, discovering Astoria's infidelity on the same day of Theo's takeover had to have been coincidence. There was simply no way Theo could have known Draco would show up at the office when he was supposed to have taken the day off.

Draco could only shake his head. He really had no answer and he didn't know if there was any way he could find out the truth. It would just have to wait until he could ask Theo in person.

Draco spent the rest of the evening writing in his journal. He added in everything he'd learned about Theo, and then, since he was caught up to the present, he found himself getting lost in his thoughts. He knew he ought to go to bed because his tomorrow self would appreciate it, but he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione and what his time with her meant for his future.

He definitely felt apprehension at the realization that he might have changed her life so much that, when he got back to his time, she wouldn't be the same person he had known before. It was just a thought in the back of his mind, but now he had something new to worry about. He considered whether he ought to stop meeting her, but he only had a few years left. And so far, things were progressing as he'd expected. There wasn't a whole lot he could honestly change in the short amount of time that he spent in the past; he knew one tiny ripple could have enormous consequences.

And yet.

He was selfish, really. He didn't want to cancel on her next year. He wanted to take all of the time she wanted to give him. It had been mostly her, he realized, who had continued to set up their next meetings. Not once had he considered telling her no, but he wondered now if he should have. It made him quite anxious to think about the possible consequences of him seeking her out that first day when he'd found himself in third year. In his defense, he hadn't thought it through. He'd panicked; he'd believed she would help him, so he'd gone to her, and now, he might have messed everything up.

He'd been so focused on not affecting the outcome of the war, then on ensuring that things went correctly so Scorpius was born, that he had completely failed to think about how his actions would have impacted Hermione and how her life might be altered because of him.

He couldn't do anything about it now; maybe he should talk to her.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he sent her an owl. It was late—very late. He didn't even know if she'd still be awake, and his nerves started twisting uncomfortably as soon as he'd sent the owl on its way. He panicked briefly at the thought of her not replying until the next day, but then, surely she would realize what had happened and wait.

In less than half an hour, he had a response, and he let out a breath in relief.

"Kippy!"

The elf appeared instantly. "Master called?"

"Is Scorpius asleep still? And where's Astoria?"

"Master Scorpius is asleep and has been for over three hours, Sir. Mistress Astoria is in her rooms. I believe her lights are out."

Draco glanced at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. I've got to run out for just a few minutes. Please alert me if anything happens."

Kippy nodded. "I will, Sir!"

Relieved, Draco thanked the elf and Disapparated, landing in the alley beside the café. The street looked much different so late at night, but he didn't dawdle to examine it. He hurried to the park where he'd met Hermione with Scorpius and found her there, waiting on the bench.

"Hey." He was slightly out of breath when he reached her.

"Hello, Draco." She smiled warmly, setting aside the book she'd been reading. She looked tired, and she was dressed in very casual clothes that he suspected were pajamas. "This was a surprise. What's on your mind?"

Rather than sit beside her, he started pacing. After a moment, he began to unload all of his thoughts. He rambled through the concerns he had about the implications of his trip through time, hardly pausing to breathe. Hermione was gracious and listened, not interrupting him once.

Finally, with everything out in the open, he stopped and looked at her. "I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry. I didn't think through what my decision all those years ago might mean for _you_. And I hope, more than anything, that it hasn't messed up _your_ life. If it has I'll… I'll never be able to forgive myself."

Hermione waited a moment to make sure that he was finished, then patted the bench beside her. "Draco. Come and sit."

He obeyed mechanically, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Draco."

Slowly, he dragged his gaze over to her, afraid of what she might say and ashamed at the fact that he hadn't considered her at all until that night.

"I appreciate your concern. I really do." She was smiling kindly. "And, honestly, I've given this a _lot_ of thought. Your decision to speak to me in third year wouldn't have altered the course of my life all by itself; I quickly put it behind me soon after you were horrible to me like usual. But the next year, you coming to me mattered, if only because you presented a fascinating magical puzzle you asked me to help you solve. I could have stayed away. After the war, coming to see you in prison was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life because I knew that it would mean… _something_. I didn't know what—I still don't—but if I'd simply left you in prison, then my life probably could have regained the track it was meant to take."

Then she paused and looked out at the dark park. "I chose the path I took. I knew that it meant things would be different. Or, at least, that there was the potential for that." Hermione turned toward him now, pulling one leg up onto the bench. "But, Draco, there's no telling that anything happened differently. That's the mind-boggling thing about time travel. If you're here now, if you've been traveling through time, visiting one day a year for however many years, then you were _always_ doing that. So there is no timeline where you didn't come to see me in third year, no thread of time has been broken. This _is_ my reality, where I spend a few hours with you every year." She shrugged. "I don't know what, if anything, is different, and I certainly can't miss what I never experienced."

He dropped his head into his hands. "But… it's just not fair, what I've done."

"Draco, I could have stopped this years ago, and I didn't. I made the choice to walk this path, so no matter what I'm missing, it was _my_ choice." She put her hand on his arm. "Think about it this way, I chose not to go to the market last weekend. Maybe I missed bumping into an old friend, getting lunch, and re-establishing an important relationship. I'll never know, will I? And I cannot mourn all the maybes and what-ifs. I'd go mad. I accepted, long ago, that choosing to continue meeting with you would have consequences. It just so happens that I'm okay with that."

Draco peered at her through his fingers. "Really?"

She smiled. "Really. And, again, I very much appreciate your concern for me and my life. But I assure you, I'm all right."

He shut his eyes and let out a long breath, his racing heart starting to slow. "All right. Um, thank you. Though, I feel I should still apologize for dragging you into this."

"You didn't know what was going on." She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. "How could you have? I'm really not sorry that you came to me. It's been quite an adventure so far."

Draco stared at the ground in front of him, his focus zeroed in on her last two words: _so far._

Neither of them spoke for what felt like an hour. Then Hermione yawned, and Draco wanted to smack himself for being so inconsiderate.

"I'm so sorry, it's ridiculously late, and you've probably got work tomorrow." He stood up quickly. "I should let you get back."

Hermione stood as well, a smirk on her face. "Tomorrow's Saturday. But you're right, it's late. I'll see you… well, tomorrow for you. Sleep well."

Draco said good night and watched her walk to a spot from which she could covertly Disapparate. When the sound of her departure echoed through the quiet park, he sighed and turned back toward the alley.

She'd said it had been an adventure _so far_ , implying that there would be more to come. He let himself smile at that; even though he'd met with her to apologize for inserting himself into her life like he had, she'd basically told him that it had been her choice to continue—meaning she'd wanted to spend all that time with him, too—and she'd hinted at adventures to come.

With a spring in his step despite his exhaustion, Draco made it to the alley and Apparated home.

He fell asleep with his thoughts swirling, focused in on his two new favorite words.

_So far._


	8. Gravity Pulling Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** 13 Going on 30 (2004) - claimed by floorcoaster
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione for everything - beta work, graphics, general cheerleading and support. Thanks to inadaze22 for brainstorming, support, and inspiration for the story title. Title comes from a song of the same name by Flume.
> 
>   
> 

* * *

**4.26.09**

"Daddy? Daddy! Look what I found!"

Draco's head jerked toward the sound of his son, who was standing in the middle of the creek, his hand clasped as though he was holding something—which he probably was. He shook his head to dispel his anxious thoughts. He'd been dwelling on his upcoming lunch meeting with Hermione, unable to shake the feeling that something would happen—something would change.

"What have you got, Score?" He propped himself on his elbows, then pushed up to a seated position when it became clear that Scorpius wasn't moving. "Bring it here!"

Scorpius hurried out of the creek and ran over to Draco. When he got close, he opened his hands just enough for Draco to peek inside. He was holding a frog and wearing one of the biggest smiles Draco could remember seeing from his son.

"I want to make a home for him! Can I, Daddy?"

Draco chuckled and checked his watch. "He needs to stay around here, where his home is."

Scorpius spent the next half hour working on a habitat for his frog. At noon, Draco told him it was time to pack up for the day. Scorpius was disappointed at having to cut his creek time so short, but Draco assured him they could come back when he returned from his meeting.

Scorpius was wet, dirty, and beyond happy.

Draco had never spent much time outdoors as a child, except to fly, so it had been an adjustment for him when Scorpius had asked him for the first time, seemingly out of the blue, if they could go to the creek. At the time, he'd been four, and Draco had been astonished to discover they even had a creek, much less that Scorpius had been to it. But Scorpius had seemed so comfortable with the idea, even making suggestions on what to pack for snacks, that he'd pretended so as not to upset his son. Saying yes to the creek that day had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made as a parent, and they returned often after that.

Once at the Manor, Draco sent Scprpius along with his mother to get cleaned up, then he did the same for himself. As he buttoned his shirt, he found that his hands were shaking slightly—he was nervous! Every other time they'd met, there had been some pretext, however thin it might have been: test scores to compare, a question to answer, a book to discuss. This year there was none of that, no real _reason_ for them to meet up. Yet they were. And it felt… _different_.

Whatever the reason, he planned to make the most of it and enjoy his time with her. If he took a little extra care and time getting ready, then that was between him and his mirror.

Draco arrived at the café first and went inside to request their table. The server that had recognized them before, Olivia, was behind the counter, and she brightened upon seeing him.

"I'll take care of this, Sally," she said to the hostess. "I had given up on you two! Expected you for breakfast. Where's the baby? Oh, I know he isn't really a baby still, but that's the last time I saw him."

"He's actually five now, and he's at home with my mother."

"I understand." The server winked. "Sometimes you just need some alone time. What's so special about this day every year, anyway?"

Draco chuckled wryly. "It's... My wife's birthday."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh! I see. Well, let me just get your table ready, won't be more than a minute!"

"Thank you." Draco gave her a warm smile. He had a healthy appetite today after a long morning at the creek, and he planned to order one of their desserts to take home for Scorpius and his mother.

Soon after she disappeared into the back, Hermione arrived.

"Hey." She bumped into him with her shoulder in a friendly way.

Draco turned to greet her, but when he saw her, his thoughts skittered to a halt in his brain. His throat went dry at the sight of her in tight fitting Muggle denims and a loose, flowy blouse. Her hair was pulled back, away from her face, but left down in the back, where her curls were free.

Granted, he had chosen his clothes with more care than usual, selecting something a notch up from casual. He'd tried to think back on what he'd worn before but gave up the effort. Nothing had been remarkable.

"You're all set!" Olivita returned, beaming at the pair of them. "Right this way!"

"Hello," he mumbled finally, as they followed the server to their table.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the table. Their server had put on a white tablecloth and set the table with fancy China. There was a vase with a small bouquet of flowers and two lit, tapered candles. There was even a small cupcake at one of the places with a candle in the top.

"Surprise!" The server clapped her hands and pulled out a matchbook. She lit the cupcake candle and pulled out the chair. "Ma'am?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco but went to sit in her seat.

"Here are the menus, and I'll be back in a few minutes for your orders." She smiled one more time and bustled away.

Draco chuckled in amusement and sat down

"Um, Draco? What's all this?"

He shrugged and opened his menu. "My guess is that the server is a romantic. He motioned to the cupcake. "I told her it was my wife's birthday."

She looked confused for an instant, then her cheeks went red and she looked away. "Oh! You, um, said I was your wife?"

"No, she assumed I was referring to you." He leaned over the menu as though very interested in the lunch offerings.

"I see." Somehow, her cheeks got even redder. "So you didn't set this up, then?"

"I did not." He brought the menu up so that she couldn't see his cheeks, which were feeling rather warm as well.

"Well, all right, then. We'll just... order, shall we?"

They silently perused the menus. Draco had never been there for lunch, so he wanted to make sure he didn't miss any options. Their server brought out their usual tea selections when she took their orders, and then they were left alone.

Draco took his time preparing his tea; his brain still wasn't quite working properly, and he kept wanting to sneak glances at Hermione. But such a task could not take forever, and he refused to let their time together be awkward.

"I'm anxious to hear how your school year is going." He must have said the exact right thing because her entire face lit up—which only made his heart pound again.

"It's fabulous! It really is. I love everything about teaching and about this school."

"Yeah? What's so great?" He smirked. "If I'm going to send my child there, I need to make sure it's worth it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I already know you're sending Scorpius. You—I mean, you in _this time_ —have already registered him for next year."

Draco grinned. "Ha. Well, I still want to know what you like so much about it."

She set her cup down and put her hands in her lap. "Oh, there are so many things! I wanted to make a difference at the Ministry but felt thwarted at every turn. With the kids, I get to impact an entire generation! They will grow up and, en masse, take Ministry jobs, and I have to believe that what they learn from me—much more than their school lessons—will stay with them."

"What do you teach beside school lessons?" He thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her, in her own words, so he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

Their food arrived then. After the server set down their plates, she leaned down to whisper—not at all subtly—in Hermione's ear. "Count yourself lucky, ma'am. A bloke who listens like this one is a rare find, let me tell you." She winked at Hermione as she walked away.

"Honestly, next she'll be showing us the back room!" Hermione burst out, once the server was out of ear shot.

Draco's eyes widened as his mind instantly began to display images of what she'd said, and he felt his cheeks burn far worse than before.

Her words hit her at roughly the same time and she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh! Bloody hell, I'm so sorry! Why on Earth did I say that?"

He wondered if she'd said it because she'd been thinking about it, and then he felt he was in danger of possibly dying. No, this wouldn't do. They needed to turn the conversation to something safe. He cleared his throat but couldn't quite look her in the eye. "So, um, teaching?"

"Yes! Well, it's not so much in specific subjects, but more in terms of getting the kids comfortable with each other. I've had a few pureblood kids this year—thanks to your pledge to send Scorpius next year—and it's been so great to see them open their minds. The kids learn about each other, which is just what I wanted. And we aim to teach compassion and empathy, two huge factors in children growing up to be… well—"

"Not prejudiced bigots?" he supplied.

She laughed. "Yes, exactly."

Draco chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Have you seen, uh, me lately? You know, past me?"

Hermione swallowed her bite, then took a drink of tea. "Not too much. You came to the school with Astoria to take an official tour in November."

"I remember that. We had our 'pretend marriage' cover going strong that day." One vivid memory of that day had been seeing Hermione on the floor with her class sitting around her in a circle while she read to them from a picture book.

"Yes, you were holding hands, even. I was surprised, honestly. I'd expected… well, when I saw that you were coming, I didn't expect her to come at all." Hermione's cheeks pinked slightly, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"Astoria had very strong opinions on Scorpius's education, so she had no intention of skipping. We agreed to show a united front, especially in front of you and the other teachers." He shrugged. "We always presented that way in public, though. Even when we were angry or hadn't spoken to each other in months."

Her eyes went wide. "Did that happen? Long stretches without speaking?"

"Yes. Especially in the last couple of years. It was so bad I even wondered if she was seeing someone, though I knew she hadn't been _physically_ unfaithful to me." On second thought, he suspected she may have started seeing Theo.

"How did you know?"

Draco grimaced; he didn't think she would find the Fidelity Clause and its corresponding Charm amusing, but he told her all about it anyway.

"That's… archaic." She made a face of disgust.

"It's very common in—"

"It's common for the bride to basically get a payoff for not sleeping around on her husband?" She'd raised her voice at the end, but she realized quickly and took a deep breath. "It's disgusting. The only point of it is to showcase a nice, happy facade to the world."

"I'm not going to argue with you. As I said, it's standard in marriages such as ours."

She clenched her jaw and held up a finger, pointing it at him. "Arranged marriages for the purpose of continuing a certain bloodline are revolting."

"As it happens, I agree with you, and should I get married again, it will be very, very different." Without thinking, he reached out and put his hand on her arm. He'd acted on instinct, as though physically touching her would draw some of her anger away.

She looked down at his hand and took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

"There's no point in arguing when we agree. I'm simply telling you what the situation is. Was I happy? No. Not even close. The only thing about my marriage that I'm happy about is Scorpius, and because of him, I can't regret a single moment, even the bad ones had their purpose." Hermione pulled her arm toward her slightly, so that his hand came to rest on hers instead of her wrist. It sent a shower of nervous sparks through his body, but he didn't withdraw his hand. "I was… numb. Mostly. I simply moved from one moment to the next, doing my duty to my family name, to the business, to my parents, without a single thought to my own happiness. Honestly, looking at it now, walking in on Astoria and Theo was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Hermione's eyes flew wide open and her hand, the one under his, flipped over so that he was now inadvertently holding it. "Theo? Nott?"

"Bugger," he whispered, shutting his eyes. "I hadn't meant to tell you that."

She gaped at him a moment longer, then shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm just so surprised! Theo? But… he's one of your friends, isn't he?"

Draco groaned and thought about pulling his hand away. "Yes. At least, I thought he was."

She started lightly rubbing his knuckles with her thumb in a very distracting way, sending pleasant little shocks through him. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm quite over it by now. Like I said, that wasn't something I'd planned to divulge. Not on this side of my time travel trip, at least." He slid his hand out from under hers so that he could dab his mouth with his napkin and finish drinking his tea. Merlin, it had been a very long time since he'd felt fluttery when he touched a woman. Actually, it had been a long time since he'd felt _anything_. Though, perhaps he'd started to thaw already, before discovering his wife cheating, since he'd been feeling the first inklings of interest toward Hermione. But that had been strictly borne of a few extended conversations with her when he'd collected Scorpius after school.

"Why didn't you want to tell me?"

Draco motioned to Olivia and requested another cup of tea. Hermione then ordered one for herself.

He waited until they were alone again. "Because I don't know anything about your life right now, and if Theo was in it, unbeknownst to me, I didn't want to say something that might interfere with how things turn out."

"You thought there was a possibility that Theo Nott was somehow in my life?" Her tone was incredulous.

"It's not that I thought he was, I merely didn't want to risk anything. If you run into him tomorrow and curse him out, well, then, that might affect my future."

Hermione laughed. "I promise not to curse, hex, or harm Theodore Nott in any way. I don't think there's any sort of danger of that, since I never see him, even in passing. He keeps to himself."

Draco scowled, wondering how long Theo had been seeing Astoria before they'd started shagging. There was no telling, really, and he doubted Astoria would be honest if he'd asked. "He could be with Astoria right now."

"I thought you said there was a very strict, binding Fidelity Clause that was never broken."

"Just because she didn't have sex with someone doesn't mean she was faithful. Certain things would have been permissible without breaking the Clause."

She made a disgusted face. "Was that your idea?"

"Merlin, no. You think I wanted to write in a reward for her for not technically cheating on me?" He shook his head. "My father was the one who insisted on it. He was trying to ensure that I'd have a stretch of time in relative peace, where I didn't have to worry about a scandal showing up in the newspaper. His intentions were…"

"Misguided, at best?" she finished with venom in her tone.

Draco sighed. "I'm not sure I understand the vehemence you're displaying. It doesn't affect you, all parties entered into the contract willingly, and there was no deception involved."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. After a moment, she let out a huff. "You're right, of course, it doesn't affect me, but… marriage should be about love and commitment and choosing to spend your life with someone!"

"Again, I agree with you. I was young and hung up on fulfilling my familial duties. Now I'm more than happy to toss them in the bin!" He spread his hands wide against the tabletop. "There was a time when I thought things with Astoria might work. That was a long time ago, though, and I felt trapped. There was no point in looking for more than what I had because divorce is so stigmatized in my circles." He brought his hands together and joined them, leaning across the table. "I don't feel that way now. I want everything you just said—love, commitment, choice." He sat back and stirred his tea. "And I'll have them—soon."

"You still plan on following through with the divorce?" Her hands were wrapped around her cup and there was a little bit of fear in her eyes.

His first impulse was to be frustrated with her. Why did she keep asking? He hadn't done or said anything to indicate that he was wavering in his aims, but instead, he took a deep breath. She only saw him once a year and while it was day after day for him, she was moving at a different pace through time. "Yes. Nothing could keep me in this marriage."

"Okay." She let out a sigh and gave him a little smile. "So, tell me what Scorpius has been interested in lately. I can't wait to have him as a student!"

Their conversation flowed easily, one topic blending into the next. They were just about to start a discussion on a law the Ministry had passed when Olivia appeared again.

"I hate to interrupt—truly, I do—but we're about to close."

Draco went wide-eyed and looked at Hermione, who was equally stunned.

"Here's your bill, I'll just leave it here." She set a slip of paper on the table.

"Wait, I'd meant to order two slices of pie to go. I'd also love another cup of tea—to go. I'm sorry, we didn't realize the time."

The server grinned. "Really! It's fine. We're only open for breakfast and lunch, and it's nearly four. I'd say take your time, but we need to start cleaning up. I'll get that pie and tea ready as soon as possible."

Hermione reached for her bag, but Draco had come prepared. "I've got this. My turn."

She frowned. "No, I didn't pay last time, remember we—"

"Hermione. I'm doing this." His tone brokered no room for discussion.

"All right. I'm going to run to the loo, I'll be back soon."

Draco nodded and watched her walk away, his mouth going dry once more at the sight of those tight Muggle jeans.

"Get a room, you two!" The server laughed as she set down a to go cup and a paper bag.

Draco felt his cheeks burn.

"Oh, don't be shy. She's got a fabulous arse, and you're quite good looking as well. I bet your children are absolutely beautiful." She winked at him and set down a fresh slip of paper. "Pie's in the bag, here's the new bill. Have a nice day."

Draco waited until she was gone before picking up the bill. He'd gone to the bank to exchange for Muggle money so that he could not only pay for the meal today, but also leave their server a generous tip. When he saw Hermione emerge, he pulled out the paper money, tucked it discreetly amongst their dishes along with a note, grabbed his extra purchases, and hurried to her. He took her arm, gently but firmly in his, wanting to get out as quickly as possible in the hope of avoiding any reaction the server might have to his tip.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked, giving him a skeptical look.

"Fine, just fine. I'm just anxious to get outside, that's all. Fresh air, you know." He relaxed once they were through the door, and he had a plan for what he wanted to happen next. "I want to get some ice cream to go with the pie. Going American style for dessert tonight." He grinned. "Want to join me? My treat."

Her eyes danced. "I would like that, yes. I've cream sounds lovely."

Fifteen minutes later, he had learned that her favorite ice cream flavor was strawberry.

"I associate it with my second visit to Diagon Alley, when Harry bought Ron and I giant cones from Fortescue's."

They stepped out of the shop and Draco surreptitiously cast a Charm to keep the ice cream from melting. Then he nodded across the street to the park where they'd spent a couple of hours a few days before. "Shall we check on our bench?"

Hermione grinned. "Lead the way."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, soaking up the late afternoon sun and watching all the people out enjoying the beautiful weather.

He wanted to ask about next year, not daring to hope that she'd want to spend any of it with him. The whole day so far felt like... Well, honestly, it felt like the start of something, though he had no idea how _she_ felt. Yes, she'd wanted to spend time with him today, but so much could happen in a year, and there was no way for him to know if he'd irrevocably altered his timeline.

Hermione finished her ice cream, then pulled a little book from her bag. "Next year, April 26th falls on a Monday." She sighed. "I'll be teaching school then. I don't suppose you'd want to meet for dinner?"

He swallowed hard, focusing on keeping his breath very even. It wasn't as if she'd asked him out on a date.

"I'll bring Scorpius to school, at least. Dinner is a bit tricky on Astoria's birthday. I usually end up joining her wherever she is." Merlin, he wanted nothing more than to ditch dinner with his wife, but he couldn't risk the damage to the timeline. "And any interactions I had with her in my past, I have to repeat, to ensure—"

"The timeline." She sighed. "I know. But seeing you when you drop off Scorpius will be good."

An older couple holding hands walked slowly by, a small dog on a leash trotting along beside them. Draco wondered how long they'd been together and if something like that was in his future.

"I can't believe this whole journey is almost over." He spoke so quietly that he wondered if she'd heard him because she said nothing at first

"Me too. I suppose I'll see you next year, but what about the year after that?"

Draco shrugged and stretched out his legs, leaning back against the bench. "My guess is that I won't relive that day as I've done all the others. If I truly am reliving them, then it would be too easy to make a minor change which could impact everything. If I wake up as myself that day, I believe it will be in that strange shop I escaped into."

"I was never quite clear on that." Hermione turned toward him somewhat, resting her arm on the back of the bench and lifting her leg up to rest in the seat. "Why did you end up in that shop?"

Draco quickly thought back to the next day he'd be reliving and was able to conclude that he'd be joining Astoria for dinner. This was probably their last chance to really talk. "I told you about discovering Astoria... With Theo. What I haven't ever told you... is that later that day, I had a board meeting, and when I arrived, everyone was already assembled—including Theo."

Hermione frowned. "You didn't fire him immediately?"

Draco chuckled. "No. Part of that was shock. Most of it, probably. Anyway, before I even sat down, I was informed that I'd been voted out of the company. I'm almost certain Theo was behind it, even though he wasn't the one who informed me."

She gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. "You mean... You're not in charge of Malfoy Industries anymore?"

"Correct. I then proceeded to get pissed, but Scorpius had planned this whole birthday dinner for Astoria, so I had to sober up for that and make myself presentable."

Her eyes were wide with shock. "You had to get through a meal? With _her?_ After... after everything?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes. Then once Score was asleep, I thought I was in the clear, but she tried to talk to me, cornered me in my study, actually. I have no idea what she wanted to say because I left as quickly as I could for the Leaky. Went there, got even more thoroughly pissed until Tom wouldn't serve me anymore. I decided to try somewhere in Knockturn, but as soon as I entered Diagon Alley, there was a swarm of reporters. I ran down an alley and somehow ended up in that strange shop, where I fell into a pile of cushions. I then heard a voice tell me—and this was strange—that I was right on time."

"As if you'd been expected?"

Draco nodded. "Then the room went fuzzy, and I saw what looked like flickers of light dancing in the air above me. I fell asleep and woke up just in time for you to slap me in third year."

"Hm." She raised the hand on the back of the bench to her mouth and bit her nail. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"Timeline concerns, mainly. And… I mean, when I first woke up, you were fourteen. Not the time to share, in graphic detail, what my wife was getting up to."

She smacked his arm playfully. "You could have told me you'd also lost your company!"

He shook his head. "Too risky. There's no telling what effect one off-hand comment could have. Besides, it wasn't that important."

"How do you feel about getting back? Are you excited? Anxious?"

Draco stared off into the distance, across the park and down a street. He watched the cars move ceaselessly, watched the people move—everything was in motion, always moving.

"I'm dreading it, to be frank. I've thought about what I want to do for days now, but beyond how I deal with Astoria, I don't know what my future holds. I haven't figured out how Theo managed to supplant me. I can't even imagine what my father will say when he finds out." He grimaced. At the absolute minimum, Lucius would be disappointed. Livid, most likely. Although, he might know just what to do to fix the situation, since he probably wouldn't be thrilled at losing his oldest and most profitable segments of his business.

He smirked at the image of Lucius coming to England, a vast cloud of fury, and all of it directed at Theodore Nott. The fact that Lucius had been banished from the island was a minor detail that Draco was fairly certain his father could bypass easily.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I can't imagine."

"These last few days have been a welcome reprieve, honestly. In my school years, I certainly didn't need to study. In my business years, I already knew what was going on. It's been like a strange… holiday, almost." He grimaced. "The day in Azkaban was bloody awful, of course. Thanks for visiting me, by the way. Made it tolerable."

Hermione smiled. "I'm pleased that I was able to help you achieve a status of 'tolerable.' That's high praise."

Draco laughed. "For Azkaban, there's not much hope for anything better."

"Do you want the company back?" Hermione asked after a short stretch of comfortable silence.

"I never really wanted it in the first place. But it was mine. Or, rather, my father's, but he put it in my charge. And I messed it up. I have no idea what happened." He shook his head. "But to answer your question, I do not, especially, want it back."

"In that case, have you thought about what you might do instead?" She absently twirled a lock of her curls, and he was hit with a sudden desire to touch them, to feel them, to know for himself if they were as soft as they looked.

He swallowed hard and turned his gaze elsewhere. He couldn't wait to get back to his future and ask her out—of course, that couldn't happen quite as quickly as he'd like because he had to start divorce proceedings before he could even think about approaching her. There were certain rules which had to be followed in order for the divorce to go smoothly for him. He had Astoria's infidelity in his corner, but if she caught even a whiff of his interest in someone else, it could complicate things.

Briefly, Draco wondered if he could kiss her now, in his past, but he'd heard too many stories of Veritaserum being used to settle disputes that he couldn't take the chance. He needed his behavior to be above reproach or suspicion—and, unfortunately, being away from his home for hours today wasn't going to help any.

"I started writing down my experience, like you suggested. I'm not sure what I'll do with it, but it's been enjoyable." He sighed and drew his legs in, resting his hands on his thighs. "I should really get going. My mother has been with Scorpius for almost five hours."

"Oh, yes, of course." She stood quickly and brushed herself off. "Shall we head back to the alley?"

Draco joined her, stretching as he did so. "Yes, I think so."

They started off in silence, Draco with his hands shoved into his pockets. He really was anxious about what would happen once he caught up in time. His biggest fear was that none of it was real. He felt certain that it was, but there was no way he could be completely sure, and until he could confirm it, he'd be unsettled.

Some things he knew: he'd divorce Astoria and he'd ask Hermione out. If all of this was pretend, then he'd have to get to know her again—assuming she'd say yes. He glanced at her, walking beside him, her gaze flitting around as she took everything in. She was absolutely worth every effort he could make, and he would do anything to convince her to give him a chance.

"Here we are."

He stopped, surprised at how quickly they'd reached the alley. He glanced down it to see the familiar dumpster they used to Disapparate looking a little worse for wear. "Let's go, then."

Just like they had years before, they scurried down the alley when the coast was clear and tucked themselves behind the dumpster. Now nobody could see them from the street. And also like last time, neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave.

Draco certainly wasn't.

He turned to say something, leaned against the wall to make a joke about the smell or a comment about the weather, but the words died on his tongue when he saw that she was looking at him apprehensively, her eyes searching for something. Then her gaze flitted to his lips and he felt a jolt go through him as though he'd been hit by a spell. They were standing so close he could see the flecks of color in her eyes; he wasn't sure if he was breathing properly anymore. It would only take one strong wind for him to propel into her, and he desperately wished a rogue squall would roar through the alley. He imagined putting his hands on her hips, just there, on her hip bones, or splaying his fingers wide across her back, desperate for as much contact as he could manage. He'd rock forward slightly, smirk as his fringe fell over his right eye, and tug her to him. She'd let out a little sigh and close her eyes just as he pressed his lips to hers.

A car honked behind them, and he jumped, coming back to himself. Hermione let out a shaky breath and gave him a shy smile.

Had he nearly kissed her?

He _had_ nearly kissed her.

He'd certainly been thinking about it. In his mind, he'd just gone through all of the reasons why he couldn't do it, why it was a very bad idea and even dangerous to his future happiness, yet despite all of that, he'd still nearly done it. But he had stopped himself. He'd wanted to— _still_ wanted to—desperately, so much it almost hurt not to, but he couldn't. Even getting this close to her was dangerous, yet still he didn't move.

Hermione was still watching him, her expression inscrutable. If she'd wanted him to kiss her and he didn't, would she conclude that he didn't want to? Four times he started to reach for her—to tug a curl, brush her cheek with the back of his hand, run his hand through her hair, slide an arm around her waist. Everything in him was screaming to act, but his mind was shouting at him to stay. The longer he stared at her, the quieter everything became until all he could hear was his heart pounding.

Then she cleared her throat and looked away, and he hated himself because of course she would get the wrong idea. He should say something, do something, so she'd understand, but she was already stepping away.

"I'll see you in a year, Draco." She smiled slightly and gave him one last wave before Disapparating.

He let his head fall back until he hit the wall, and part of him wanted to bang his head against it. Would it really have been so terrible to have kissed her? Kissing certainly wouldn't break the Fidelity Clause. It was too late to matter, but now that she was gone, he wished he had done it. Except for the fact that, once he'd started, he wouldn't have wanted to stop if she wanted him to keep going.

He shook his head. He only had to get through one more time jump before he'd be back and could truly begin his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story is COMPLETE and will be updated weekly. There are eleven chapters, already written. Updates will be on Thursdays. THREE MORE CHAPTERS!!
> 
> Come find my on Tumblr! I'm [floorcoaster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/floorcoaster) over there!


	9. Never Be the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title take from "Rushing Back" by Flume. Beta thanks to dreamsofdramione!

**4.26.10**

"Daddy?"

Draco pretended to stay asleep.

"Daddy. Wake up." Scorpius was still considerately whispering.

Draco didn't move.

Scorpius poked him in the shoulder. "Daddy!"

Draco rolled over as though turning in his sleep. He paid for his little joke, however, because Scorpius climbed onto the bed, slung one leg over Draco, and sat down on him— _hard._

"Oomph!" Draco's eyes flew open as he grabbed his son and tossed him sideways onto the bed.

Scorpius lay there shrieking with laughter, and Draco grinned down at him. "You are getting too big for such things, Score."

"But it's time to wake up! You're coming to my school today!"

Draco nodded. "That's right, I'm dropping you off." How Scorpius knew that, he wasn't sure.

"No, Daddy! You're coming to my class!" His expression was suddenly quite serious. "Don't you remember?"

"Remind me."

Scorpius sat up and put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "It's career day. Well, actually, it's career week, but Miss Granger scheduled you for today. You're coming to talk to my class about your work!"

Draco blinked, then let out a laugh. He remembered attending career day, but the date had meant nothing to him at the time. It amused him to no end that Hermione had scheduled it for April 26th. "Oh, _that_ career day. I thought you meant the one where I told everyone what my dream career is—an international Quidditch player, of course."

"Daddy, don't be silly. I hardly ever see you fly. You can't be _that_ good."

Draco's smile faltered. "I'll have you know I was an excellent flier once."

Scorpius jumped up and down on the bed. "Will you teach me to fly? Maybe you can teach my whole class!"

"I'm not sure the other parents would appreciate that. But I'll definitely teach you."

Scorpius made a face. "On one of those kid brooms? Or a real broom?"

Draco laughed. "Let's start with the kid broom and see how we do, all right? Now, we both need to get ready to go! Have you seen your mother this morning?"

"No. Remember last year? She wants to sleep in, no disturbances."

"We'll let her sleep then. I've got to shower, you go get dressed, and I'll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes."

Scorpius nodded his head importantly. "Got it. I'll beat you though!" He took off running out the door.

**ooo**

Draco's stomach was in twisty knots as he threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames of the main fireplace at the Manor.

It was silly, but he'd nearly kissed Hermione the last time he saw her, and he had no idea what to expect. A year had passed for her; maybe she had forgotten about it? Or maybe she hadn't even noticed?

However, _she_ had looked like she'd wanted to kiss _him,_ too.

As soon as they landed, Scorpius pulled him by the hand.

"Whoa, let's check in before we go roaming, Score." Draco stopped at the front desk, logged his wand, and was directed to Hermione's classroom.

Scorpius resumed trying to rip Draco's arm from its socket, making Draco chuckle at his enthusiasm.

They'd come a little early, as requested, so Hermione was the only person in the classroom. She looked up when they entered, her eyes darting to Draco's.

He smirked; he'd have to pretend a bit today, but he thought he might have some fun with it. "Good morning, Hermione."

Scorpius stood on his tip toes and tried to whisper-shout into Draco's ear. "It's Miss Granger, Daddy."

Hermione jumped in. "Remember, Scorpius. That's what my students call me, but your father is an adult and may call me by my name." She crossed the room and held out her hand. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you so much for coming and giving us some of your valuable time."

For an instant, Draco panicked, thinking something had gone wrong. But then Hermione winked at him and gently pulled her hand out if his; he'd forgotten to release it. He cleared his throat. "Um, thank you for having me. What exactly am I doing again?"

She chuckled. "Mr. Malfoy, are you unprepared for an appointment? That doesn't seem very professional." Her eyes sparkled.

So she wanted to have some fun, too. All right, then.

"Perhaps I was given incomplete directions. It's possible you're falling off in your duties." He sighed dramatically. "This certainly doesn't leave a good impression, Miss Granger."

It was her turn to smirk. "Oh, I sent home a _very_ detailed letter to all parents with a complete list of what we're looking for, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you've got an organization problem at home."

"Kind of you to be concerned, Miss Granger, but rest assured, there's nothing wrong with my organizational skills."

She leaned slightly closer, her arms loosely crossed over her chest and gave him a look of mock severity. "Something amiss with your reading comprehension, then? The letter was perfectly clear."

Draco opened his mouth to retort but felt Scorpius tug his hand.

"Daddy?"

Draco knelt down to look his son in the eye. "What is it, Score?"

Scorpius glanced at Hermione, then scooted closer to Draco. "Are you and Miss Granger fighting?"

He exchanged a brief glance with Hermione, who quickly knelt beside Scorpius as well. "Oh, Scorpius, I'm so sorry. No, your father and I weren't fighting."

"Miss Granger and I went to school together, Score. We've known each other a long while." He sent her a warm smile. "We were only playing a silly adult game."

Scorpius looked unconvinced. "Prove it."

"What would you like me to do?"

Scorpius looked between Draco and Hermione a few times, a frown of deep concentration on his face. "Say you're sorry. And… and give her a hug."

Draco smiled at his son, careful to keep his features schooled to reveal nothing. "I will absolutely apologize." Then he stood up tall and faced Hermione, who also stood. He noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Miss Granger, I apologize for not being fully prepared for my presentation today. I seem to have misplaced my instructions. Would you be so kind as to give me a brief summary so that I may meet the high standards you have set here at this school?"

Her blush deepened. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm almost certain I've got an extra copy somewhere in my desk. I'll just find it now and give you a few minutes to review it." She went behind her desk and within seconds had procured a copy of her letter. "Here you are, and I'm sure you're more than adequately qualified to talk about what you do every day for a living."

He accepted the letter with a slight nod and started to read it.

"Hug her, remember?" Scorpius pulled on his hand. "It's what you do when you're sorry about something. You always hug me when you apologize."

Draco hesitantly looked at Hermione, who seemed slightly unsettled, then back at his son. "A hug is a little bit personal, Score, and Miss Granger and I aren't on the same level as you and me. I'm your Dad, but hugging another adult is… well, it's different."

Scorpius considered this for a moment, then nodded. "All right. So you just… say you're sorry when you're grown up?"

"Yes, mostly. It depends on the relationship. But Miss Granger and I—" He glanced toward her again to find her biting her lip, watching him intently. "We've not got that kind of relationship." _Yet._

"Okay. Shouldn't you look at that paper now?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes, I believe I should. Why don't you get settled in and I'll look this over. I might have some questions for Miss Granger, though."

Scorpius let go of his hand and went to his seat. He put his things in order, then took out a book to read while he waited.

Draco Conjured a chair and set it in the corner so that he could be comfortable while he read. The particulars had been lost to his memory, but he had a vague recollection of doing this career day before. After about ten minutes, other students started trickling in, and as soon as they saw him, every single one became terribly shy. By the time everyone was in their seats, only whispers could be heard, which Draco assumed was the result of his presence.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Good morning, everyone. I'm sure you've noticed we have a special guest today. Mr. Malfoy, Scorpius's father, is the first of our parents to join us for career week, and he'll be telling us a little bit about what he does. He's a wizard, so those of you who come from Muggle homes will be able to ask him all the questions you've been saving up. Once he's finished, you'll of course go to your next class with Mrs. Fraser."

Draco watched Hermione begin the school day. She told him he'd be speaking after she'd done the morning announcements and opened the day, a process that included a little bit of magic.

Finally, she introduced him. "Mr. Malfoy is the Head of Malfoy Industries, and I'll be honest when I say I'm not quite sure what that means, so I'll be learning along with all of you!"

She motioned for him to begin, then took the chair he'd Conjured and moved it so she was sitting with her students, watching him.

He took a deep breath, slightly anxious to be speaking in front of fifteen five and six-year olds, not to mention their beautiful teacher. So, naturally, he started with a spell.

**ooo**

Thirty-seven minutes later, he was finished and the children were clapping politely. It hadn't been earth-shattering, but he'd enjoyed himself, and Scorpius was beaming at him so he must have done well.

"All right children, thank you for your attention and great questions. Please walk quietly to your next lesson." Hermione went to her desk and began shifting things around.

Draco waved to Scorpius as he left the room. "Now I do that all again, right?"

"Yes. For this class and one more. Then it will be lunch time, and you're free to go." She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's all there in the letter."

He smirked and went over to her desk. "I must admit, I was highly amused when Scorpius told me I'd be coming here today."

"Were you?"

"Honestly, yes. I expected to see you only when I came to drop Scorpius off this morning and pick him up later."

"I hope you didn't mind. At first I thought it would be funny, but then after I'd asked and your past self said yes, I got worried"

He chuckled. "Oh, it was very funny. I laughed out loud when Scorpius told me."

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I wasn't sure, after... after last time." She didn't mention the near kiss but she didn't have to.

"I remember doing this, coming here for career week, but of course the date had meant nothing then. Except being Astoria's birthday."

Hermione tilted her head slightly, her expression immediately shifting to one of intellectual interest. "I've been thinking. You have memories of your time in this past, yet now you are inhabiting your own body. When I traveled with the Time Turner, I simply moved through time, meaning there were two versions of me in the past. I wonder what this difference means for you? Do your memories of your past remain intact? Or are they replaced once you repeat a day? Tea?"

She'd walked to the back of the classroom where she had a tea kettle sitting.

He blinked, surprised at the abrupt question. "Yes, please."

With a flick of her wand, she set the water to boiling. As she prepared her cup and his, she continued. "Have you tried accessing a past memory? Say, your year in Azkaban? Do you have two memories? If you have only one, which is it?"

Draco frowned. "I haven't really tried, but that would be an interesting experience. I'll try that later when I'm home with my Pensieve. Just thinking back…" He paused, trying to recall the previous year. He knew they'd spent a lot of time together, but he struggled to find his memory of this first time around. "I—"

Just then, two students walked in talking loudly and animatedly about something from their previous lesson. They quickly hushed when they saw the guest, and Draco smiled at them, knowing his conversation with Hermione was on pause for now.

Between the second and third classes of the day, they were able to talk a little more.

"I'm still not entirely sure this is all real." At her look of protest, he shrugged. "And if it is real, how do I know it's going to stick? I don't know what to expect. I'm holding everything very loosely right now. My only hope is that, if nothing else, I will remember this time, the extra memories with Scorpius." He swallowed hard, not sure if he should say the next thing on his mind.

"Is that all?" she whispered. Her hands stilled on the piece of parchment she was writing on.

"No." It was all he dared say. "Hermione, I can't—"

"Take any chances. I know." She let out an impatient huff, then collected herself. They were teetering very near the edge of something, and as much as he wanted to careen over it, the sensible part of his mind—the part that was terrified of ruining everything—refused to let him. Maybe it was the difference in their personalities—she a Gryffindor, he a Slytherin—that had brought them to the point where they, apparently, diverged on the best course of action.

This was assuming quite a lot, though, and the last thing he wanted to do was make an assumption that she felt for him what he felt for her—it seemed impossible, considering the long stretches of time between visits for her.

Even if she had wanted to kiss him the last he saw her, it had been a full year since then. Surely whatever had fueled that desire had somewhat, if not entirely, cooled. It was an awful long time to wait, and he felt, yet again, that he could expect nothing from her.

Draco cleared his throat. "Which class is next?"

"The oldest group we have." She shot him an exasperated look. "They're mostly nine."

Right on cue, the door opened. A group of three boys walked in, took one look at him, and promptly ignored him. Draco smirked. Everyone who entered proceeded to continue their conversation, and he felt a lot more relaxed with them than the two previous classes.

When his final presentation ended and the students were filing out, Draco turned to see Hermione gathering her beaded bag.

"Lunch?" She grinned sheepishly. "We don't have long, but if we leave separately, no one would suspect, and we could manage forty-five minutes at the café?"

He had just started to answer in the affirmative when the door burst open and Scorpius ran in. "Dada! Will you eat lunch with me? Evelyn's mother is eating with her and so is Sam's! Please, Dada? You can get food in the lunch hall, they always have plenty and you can meet my friends and—"

Draco chuckled and clamped his hand over Scorpius's mouth. "I'd love to, Buddy. But first let me finish this conversation with Miss Granger. I was just about to thank her for inviting me here today."

Unspoken was his additional thanks for the invitation to lunch. When he looked at her, she'd set her bag back down in her chair and smiled. "Thank you again for coming, Mr. Malfoy. The kids enjoyed your talk very much."

Scorpio grabbed his hand and tugged on his arm. "Come on, I want to make sure I get some chips!"

Draco chuckled and followed. It hadn't been a proper goodbye, but he knew he'd return later to pick Scorpius up.

Lunch went just as he'd expected it would, but when all the other kids ran outside to play until school resumed, Scorpius stayed with Draco.

He was frowning slightly, and Draco knew he was working up to asking a question—likely a series of questions, which would have Draco on his toes.

"Dada?"

"Yes, Scorpius?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Are you and Miss Hermione friends?"

Draco couldn't hide his surprise. "Why do you ask, Scorpius?"

His son shrugged. "You smiled at her a lot, and I don't see you smile much. If someone makes you smile like that, you should be friends with that person."

Draco's heart clenched painfully. So much for his theory that Scorpius didn't notice his moods or feelings. His heart also ached at the beautiful simplicity of a child's perspective.

"I wouldn't quite say we were... Friends." He had to be so, so careful in what he said, but he wanted to be honest with Scorpius. "I suppose I do enjoy being around her."

"Is Mum your friend?" Scorpio asked quietly. "You don't seem to enjoy being around her."

_Bloody hell_.

"Your mother is important to me. We were very young when we married, and I'm so glad we did that because now we have you."

Scorpio let out a dramatic sigh. "I know all of this already. You've told me hundreds of times. But you and mum aren't like other kids' parents. I see them holding hands, hugging, even kissing." He made a face. "And it's gross, but they seem to like it because they do it a lot. Do you ever kiss mum?"

Draco dragged a hand through his hair. "Tell you what, Score. Let's go outside for a walk. I want to answer all of your questions, but it's not the right time." Then he had an idea. Scorpius was very thoughtful and literal. "Ask me again in a year, okay? After your mother's birthday."

Scorpius frowned thoughtfully. "And you promise to tell me then?"

"I promise you'll get all the answers you want." He hated that the answers would likely cause him pain.

He looked like he didn't quite believe it and wanted to object, then changed his mind, smiling instead. "Okay, Dada. Now we can go."

When the lunch recess was called to an end, Draco said goodbye to Scorpius and Apparated to the alley beside the café. He wanted to be sure their server wasn't disappointed that he and Hermione hadn't met there.

He was only planning to stop by, chat a few minutes, order himself and Hermione their usual teas, and leave, but as soon as he stepped up to the counter to place his order, someone threw their arms around him and squealed.

"Oh! Mr. Granger! I've been waiting all day for you and was beginning to think you weren't coming!"

Draco usually recoiled at such overt displays of emotion, especially from strangers—though he wasn't sure one had ever been foisted upon him before now. After one last squeeze, his assailant released him, and he was able to see the person's face.

It was Olivia, their server. In a rush, he remembered what he'd done the year before and his cheeks went red as Weasley's hair. "Oh, uh, hello there." He took a slight step back, her beaming, expressive face like a wild, flashing firework.

"Mr. Granger, let me buy you a drink, please? Where's Mrs. Granger?" Olivia looked out the door, hoping to see Hermione lingering there.

"Er, she's not here with me. I'm ordering us drinks to take with me though." He glanced sideways at the display of desserts in the window. "And possibly two pieces of cake."

Olivia reached into her pocket and pulled out a few paper notes, which Draco recognized as Muggle money. "They're on me. Go on, order, then give me five minutes of your time. Please?"

He relented, dreading what was coming. When he had his order in hand, he followed her to a table in the corner. "Not working today?"

She grinned at him. "I don't work here anymore, thanks to you! Mr. Granger, I don't know how… I could never repay your kindness for what you did last year. When I saw what you'd left, with my name on it, I tried desperately to find you. But it's like you didn't exist!" She laughed lightly. "For a while, I thought maybe you were some kind of angel. The only Grangers I could find in London were a pair of dentists."

Draco coughed to cover his strangled gasp of surprise.

"Needless to say, neither of them were named Draco." Her smile grew serious and she reached over and put a hand on his arm. "Mr. Granger, I want you to know that I put your outrageously generous gift to good use immediately. I was able to pay off my car, catch up on my bills, and buy some clothes and books for my kids. Then I used what was left to enroll in a small college near my house, and I'm proud to say that I'm almost finished with my first year! I'm going to be a nurse."

"That's fantastic. Truly. I'm so pleased it was helpful." He was itching to run, to get away from this person looking at him as though he were some kind of saint. The pressure, the intensity of her starry-eyed gaze was almost enough to make him scream.

"Helpful?" She barked a laugh. "Buying me lunch would have been helpful. What you did was life-changing. Why? Why did you do it?"

He shrugged and looked out the window, wishing he could disappear and vowing never to return to the café again. Although, she had said she didn't work there anymore, so perhaps, now that she'd been able to thank him, he could safely visit again—though, of course, not any time soon.

"I… I don't have a great answer. I wanted to, and I could."

"But why did you want to?" She applied a gentle pressure to his wrist and he clenched his jaw to keep from jerking his arm away.

"Because I didn't like hearing that you have to work so much when you have children at home. I've got a son, and I hate being away from him even for a few hours." Trying to be casual and discreet, he pulled his arm from her reach and gathered his food order.

She took the hint. "I know I'm keeping you, I'm sorry. But I'm awfully glad I got to come and thank you in person. I took the entire day off so that I wouldn't miss you. Been studying though." She grinned, indicating a few large books, some papers, and a laptop computer, something he recognized from his past memories; he'd seen Hermione with one once in her classroom when he'd been late to pick up Scorpius. She had explained what it was and its purpose.

"It was good to see you, as well," he said stiffly, standing and picking up the bag with cake slices and the drink carrier. "Good luck. I hope you have more time to spend with your children."

Her eyes lit up again. "Oh, yes, Mr. Granger! Thank you again, it means more than I can possibly express."

He bowed his head slightly and spun on his heel, anxious to leave. He didn't want to risk Apparating with two very full beverages, so he called for a taxi to the Leaky Cauldron, surreptitiously casting a Stasis Charm on the teas to keep them hot. From there, he traveled by Floo to the Manor where he dove straight into answering the question of his memories.

He was able to extract the memory of the _day_ before, but couldn't seem to land on anything solid from the _year_ before. He could possibly ask Hermione to look inside his thoughts, but that would be risky, and he didn't want her to see any of his… well, vivid imaginings in which she starred.

Earlier, he'd been able to remember attending the career day, though he hadn't tried to think of what he did or said; he hadn't thought it noteworthy. Now, though, he couldn't pinpoint any details. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Once he'd rooted around in his brain for a few minutes, he gave up. It was, perhaps, some kind of clue that what he was experiencing truly was happening—if his new memories were erasing the old ones, then that _had_ to mean something.

Draco glanced at the clock and realized he was fifteen minutes late to get Scorpius. He jumped up, put the Pensieve away, made sure everything was neat and orderly the way it had been before, then Disapparated.

He'd been late to pick Scorpius up a few times, and the school let the children play outside on the grounds until someone came for them. Draco hurried to the pick-up spot, unsurprised to see that nobody was there.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He smiled out the window; he knew her voice so well.

"He's out on the grounds." Hermione stepped beside him and nodded toward the green space and the trees beyond. "Come on, I'll take you to him." She motioned for him to follow and opened the door that led outside.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and followed. When they were outside, keeping a respectable distance, he felt like he could relax. "Looks like we get a few minutes alone, after all."

She looked at him sharply, then smiled. "Did you have a good day? Where are you going tonight for Astoria?"

He made a face. Thinking about Astoria was the last thing he wanted to do with his few precious moments with Hermione. "Paris. She wanted to go shopping. It's her tenth birthday being married to me, so she felt that earned her a day on the Champs Elysees."

"Does she have a limit or something?"

"Astoria? A limit?" Draco laughed. "No, one of the perks of being a Malfoy is the seemingly endless supply of gold. Oh, listen. I went home before coming here and tried to do what you said, find both memories. I had the Pensieve all ready to watch them both, but I couldn't grasp the original one. It makes me more inclined to think that this, what I'm experiencing, is real. That, as you said, these new memories are replacing the old ones."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I suspect they're there, deep down, and someone skilled with Legilimency could find them."

"Not that I really want them. These days I've spent going through this have been… some of the best of my life." He chuckled to himself. "Though I only went flying twice. I always meant to go more often."

They heard the sounds of laughter and, unconsciously, they both slowed down. They came to where they could see the little group, but didn't make their presence known.

Hermione leaned on a tree. "What happens tomorrow?"

A particularly joyful shriek sounded nearby. "I don't know. I'll find out tomorrow."

"It sounds like I shouldn't try and get you to come to the school." She grinned but he could still see lines of worry on her face.

"Scorpius will stay home from school next year. After this year, where I came to his school, he lamented the fact that we missed our tradition of playing at the creek on Astoria's birthday, and I told him he could skip that day."

"Oh, I see. It sounds like I won't see you next year." She looked out toward where the children, still hidden, were playing, so he couldn't see her face.

"No. At least, not yet, not at the point where I passed out." It had to have been close to midnight when he left the Leaky Cauldron, though he certainly had no idea. He wondered if he'd wake up still wasted.

She gave him a sideways smile. "I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen."

"You skipped a few years, and everything is still fine." He'd meant to tease her, but her face clouded.

He wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and tell her that he had no intention of letting her go, but he absolutely couldn't—not when he was so close. He'd waited this long, what was one more day? He'd take Scorpius to the creek when they got home, and they'd stay there until he had to leave for Paris.

Just then, one of the kids came racing into view, chased by another. They were laughing and running full strength. The rest of the kids came behind the first two, not running hard but just fast enough to keep up. When Scorpius saw Draco, his eyes lit up and he waved, then left the pack and ran to the spot where he and Hermione were standing.

"Daddy! When did you get here?" He threw his arms around Draco's middle.

"Just now. Are you ready to go?"

Scorpius nodded vigorously, slightly out of breath. "The creek?"

Draco chuckled, holding on to his son's arms as Scorpius lifted his feet off the ground. "Yes, son. There will be a basket waiting at home with snacks in it. We'll spend the rest of the day there until dinner time."

"Good. I've got this idea for a new dam I want to try." He released Draco and started walking back to the school.

Hermione laughed. "I suppose he's ready to go."

"Hey, Score! Say goodbye to your friends!"

Scorpius turned around. "Goodbye!"

He ran slightly ahead, so Draco got a few more quiet minutes with Hermione. "What are your plans for tonight? I can't believe I've never asked before. I'm sorry to be so thoughtless."

"It's all right. I'm going to see if Ginny is available for dinner." She crossed her arms, smiling to herself. "I like to keep my schedule light on this day."

Scorpius had reached the school building and turned back, waving for them to walk faster. Draco realized they had maybe a minute before they'd be close enough for him to hear them.

"Listen, Hermione. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but whatever happens—"

"Stop." She hugged herself tighter, her smile extremely forced. "We'll talk as soon as you can. Hopefully in a year, but if not, after that."

They'd reached Scorpius, and Draco felt himself desperately wishing he could redo some of the things he'd said to her when they'd had time. He would have tried to tell her how much she meant to him, but he wasn't sure he'd have been able to put it into words. Kissing her seemed like the most expedient method, but that wasn't an option.

"Have a good day, Mr. Malfoy. Scorpius, I'll see you tomorrow!" Hermione waved to them both and kept walking.

Draco watched until she disappeared through the door.

**ooo**

Later, when he returned from Astoria's birthday dinner in Paris, and after kissing Scorpius's sleeping head, Draco went to his study and retrieved the journal. He was almost caught up, at least with the general record of his time. It was late, and he was both anxious and excited to go to sleep—though he felt far more nervous than anything.

His best course was to be so tired when he finally did go to bed that he'd fall asleep almost immediately. Draco took the journal to the writing desk and wrote out both today's and yesterday's information. He didn't put too many of his thoughts and commentary on what had happened because there was so much to say already without all of that. He'd have time to finish those notes once he was back in his time, anyway.

It was very late when he finished, and he felt bleary-eyed but accomplished. He returned the journal to its holding spot and made his way to bed.

Despite his best efforts, sleep eluded him. What would happen when he woke up? Even though there was no way he could possibly guess the answers, the questions kept racing around his mind. Scenarios kept playing out when he closed his eyes, each more horrifying than the last.

Most of all, he hoped that his time with Hermione wasn't lost. If none of this was real, he'd still had these days with Scorpius. But Hermione… that was something altogether new and precious to him.

After laying in bed for an hour, he gave up and took a Sleeping Potion. His past self would suffer for it, but he was beyond caring. This time, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

**4.26.11**

When Draco woke up, he felt like an elephant had sat on his head. It was throbbing, and cracking his eyes open made things infinitely worse. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again, using his hands to block the hazy light.

"Ah, you're awake, Mr. Malfoy."

There was a sound as if someone was setting down a quill, then the rustling of fabric as they stood.

Despite the pounding in his head, thoughts began slowly forming, and then, with a jolt, he remembered everything. He sat up so quickly that he nearly threw up, eyes widening as he swallowed hard to keep everything down. The room was spinning, still fuzzy with a strange smell to it.

His eyes started to water and he felt whoever was in the room with him put a hand on his back.

"Here, drink this."

Draco saw a tiny bottle swimming in his vision. He tried to ask what it was but all that came out was a strangled gasp.

"It's a combination of Sober-Up potion and an anti-nausea tonic. You'll feel better, I promise."

In general, Draco had a very strict policy about not drinking anything from strangers, but as the pain and disorientation only increased with each passing second, he broke his policy and grabbed the bottle, downing it quickly.

He felt instantly better and collapsed back onto whatever he had fallen on before. After a few minutes, during which he heard only the crackling of a fire, he opened his eyes again, relieved to see clearly now.

He slowly pushed himself onto his elbows, glancing around the room. An old wizard was sitting on a pouf, much like those in Trelawny's classroom. His hands were on his knees, watching Draco with a bemused expression.

He smiled. "Hello again, Mr. Malfoy."

"What the fuck is going on? If you don't mind me asking so bluntly."

"Not at all, quite expected. Mr. Malfoy, what do you know about fairies?"

Draco frowned in annoyance. "Fairies? Not much."

"This is a lamentably common occurrence among our kind. Fairies are like house-elves, in that they have very strong magic that is wholly different from ours."

Draco waited for him to continue. After a moment, he decided the old man was waiting for him to say something. "Good to know."

"You were sent on a journey, courtesy of the fairies. One specific fairy, to be exact. It is a very rare gift, and no two people experience the same journey. How was yours?"

"Er, it was... Fine. Strange, confusing..." His heart started pounding. This man might know the answer to this most important question. "Wait, was it real? Or just a dream?"

"Oh, it was quite real, I assure you." The old man grinned, reminding Draco of Dumbledore—though this wizard seemed, if possible, even more strange. "If I may ask, what exactly happened? I'm always quite curious."

"I traveled back in time and inhabited the body of my younger self."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh my! That sounds fascinating. As I said, each person's journey is unique. But it is completely real."

Draco's head was swimming. He wasn't sure he quite believed it, even though he very much wished it to be true. "Let's say I believe you... Why? Did you do this? Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "My name is Cecil Leslie Whimple. The fairies ask me to help them with their missions, as they find me unintimidating." He shifted and sighed. "As for why, well, have you ever met a fairy?"

Draco shook his head.

"Fairies are wonderful creatures who love to grant wishes, but they'll only do so for those whom they deem worthy. It's never outright, as in, 'dear fairy, please fulfill my wish,' but they listen to the heart and sometimes, very rarely, they grant the wish."

"But I haven't made any wishes." He was beginning to feel like this was all an elaborate hoax.

"No. It wasn't you, Mr. Malfoy." Cecil smiled benevolently. "It was your son."

Draco froze, a pulse of ice shooting through his entire body. "My... My son? What do you mean?"

"Young Master Malfoy befriended a fairy who visited his school last year. The fairy spent a week with his class as part of a project one of his teachers had created. She found your son to be charming and kind beyond any other human she'd ever encountered. He often spoke to her as though she were a friend, and indeed, she considers him one, even now. He let a wish slip one day, and she was determined to fulfill it. However, fairies may not delve into the minds of humans, so she had to wait for all of the information necessary to complete the wish."

Draco shook his head in utter disbelief. "My son made a wish... About me?"

Cecil nodded. "He did. His exact words were, _I wish my Daddy was happy._ The fairy, Garnetia, was moved nearly to tears at the longing in his voice. She has kept her mind bent toward your son ever since, waiting. Today, the final piece she needed was revealed. And here you are."

"What final piece? How... How was that journey through my life supposed to make me happy?"

"Only you can answer that." Cecil shrugged. "Something happened to you that either will or already has set you on a different path than the one you were on."

Draco shook his head fervently. "No, I was already going to divorce Astoria, already going to ask Hermione out. Nothing is different!"

"That cannot be entirely true, or you wouldn't be here. Every step on your journey led you to the next one. Is there nothing you can recall?"

"No, I didn't change anything! I was very, very careful not to do anything differently than I'd done before."

"But something _was_ different." Cecil gave him a stern look.

Draco threw up his hands, unsure why he was resisting the very obvious. "Yes, all right, I... I connected with someone in the past during a time when we very much hated each other. Then we ended up spending time together almost every day I was away..." He looked up at Cecil, suddenly alarmed. "Wait, what day is it? When am I?"

Cecil chuckled. "It's the same day you left on your trip."

"How long was I asleep though?"

"Eighteen minutes, one for each year in the past."

Draco did a quick calculation. It had to be nearly midnight. "What time is it?"

"Three minutes after midnight."

Draco nodded, feeling wretched that he couldn't find a way to see Hermione that day—though, truly, it couldn't be helped. He wasn't about to go and wake her up, not when it wasn't even technically April 26th anymore.

He relaxed slightly. "Is it... Done then? No more jumping through time?"

"No more adventure. Time jumping is an interesting one, I must admit." Cecil stood and held out a hand to help Draco stand, which he took.

He'd expected to still feel woozy, but whatever had been in the potion seemed to have completely sobered him. He grimaced at the thought that his body had been through quite an ordeal in twenty-four hours. All in one day he'd woken up with a hangover, took a potion, gotten drunk after having his company ripped away, sobered up for Astoria's birthday dinner, then finally got completely sloshed once more. It had been his third Sober-Up potion of the day, and he never wanted to need another one again.

"Well, I suppose… I should thank the fairy? Garnetia, you said her name was?"

Cecil chuckled. "Yes. I believe the best thanks you can give her is honoring your son's wish."

"I intend to. Do I, um, owe anything for this experience?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. Again, consider the gift you were given because of him."

"I will. Thank you for explaining everything." Draco held out his hand and Cecil shook it. "I'll leave you now."

Cecil smiled. "Of course. Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco hesitantly peeked out of the door, nervous that there might be a stray reporter still lurking. When he saw no one, he slipped out and immediately Disapparated. He arrived directly in his room and started getting ready for bed. He was tired, but he was also anxious. What if Cecil was wrong and when he woke he'd find himself in the future? What if something else odd happened, like going back to third year to do it all over again? What if he hadn't done enough to make his son's wish come true?

There was nothing for it, however, so he finally crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep.

It was surprisingly easy.


	10. Believe in Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Tonight, Tonight" by Smashing Pumpkins.
> 
> Thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione, for the support and encouragement and the BEAUTIFUL GRAPHIC!! SO MUCH LOVE!
> 
>   
> 

**4.27.11**

Draco opened his eyes, and for a few blissful seconds, thought nothing of it. Then reality hit him, and he sat bolt upright in bed. Frantically searching for some sign of what day it was, he threw the covers off and hopped up. His clock read two minutes til eight, so he rushed from the room, pulling on a robe as he went. Scorpius's alarm would go off soon, and if anybody would know the date, it would be his son.

He stopped outside his son's door and waited until he heard the alarm go off. When the beeping stopped, he knocked and waited for Scorpius to speak.

"Come in."

Draco poked his head around the door and grinned at his son, who was rubbing his eyes with his fists. "Morning, Score."

Scorpius's face lit up and he sat up, then threw off his blankets and jumped up from the bed. "Daddy!" He flung his arms around Draco for half a second, then released him. "Are we going to talk to Miss Granger today? About the drill?"

Draco's heart leapt and he nearly scooped up his son and spun him around the room. Instead he merely grinned. "For the tree fort, right?"

Scorpius gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, Daddy. We talked about it yesterday."

It still wasn't absolute proof, even though Draco felt in his heart that he'd truly stopped time jumping. "And yesterday was Mummy's birthday, right?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Scorpius asked, turning away to begin dressing for the day. "Of course it was. You let me stay home from school and we went to the creek all morning, just like we used to. I hope we keep doing it every year."

"Of course we will." Draco shut his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. He was really and truly home. Then everything he'd been able to avoid came crashing down on him: Astoria's cheating and Theo taking the company being the most obvious and pressing matters. Thankfully, his mother was there and could take Scorpius to school so that he could be at his lawyer's office when he arrived.

"Hey, Score. I'm going to have Grand'Mere take you to school this morning. We'll talk to Miss Granger this afternoon, when she has more time. I've got an important appointment first thing today."

Scorpius nodded seriously. "All right. But you promise you'll pick me up?"

"Promise. You get ready for school while I speak to Grand'Mere." Draco ruffled his hair then set off to find his mother.

Narcissa was in the breakfast room and had just sat down to her meal when Draco entered and saw the _Daily Prophet_ on the table near her plate. Knowing she was seconds away from opening it, he speed-walked over to her and snatched it up.

Narcissa looked up, one eyebrow raised. "And good morning to you, Son. Pray tell, why have you taken my newspaper?"

Draco sat down in the chair nearest her. "Mother, we need to talk."

She glanced up at him, unimpressed, but something in his expression made her pale slightly. "Oh, Draco. I'm not really angry about the paper."

"It's about yesterday, Mother. It was a terrible day." And he needed to tell her the basic gist quickly, before Scorpius arrived to eat. "I'm just going to get it out and we can discuss the ramifications later, all right?"

"Draco, darling, you're scaring me." She set her fork down and sat up straight, rigid as a post.

He took a deep breath. "Yesterday, Theo Nott somehow managed to wrest control of the company from me."

Narcissa looked at him expectantly, as though waiting for the punchline. "Draco, do be serious."

"I am, Mother. I swear. The Board voted me out yesterday. It's why I didn't come home in the afternoon, why I was completely and thoroughly wasted yesterday before dinner—though I'd sobered up a bit beforehand." It was such a relief to get the truth out. To her, it had been only yesterday, but he'd been carrying the knowledge for eighteen days, dreading the moment when he had to tell her.

Her expression went from disbelief to rage to a cold, calm fury. "Exactly who does Theodore Nott think he is, anyway? Just wait until your father hears about this."

Draco smirked. "I've wondered how he would react. I'm not sure Theo really thought it all the way through."

"Does he honestly think he'll get away with stealing the company from you— _our_ company, the one with the _Malfoy_ name on it?" Her hands were shaking she was so livid.

"He said he can change the name." Draco shrugged. "Honestly, mother, I've had time to think about it, and I'm not terribly upset. I've got a bit of a nest egg set aside, started it years ago, and I might want to try something new for myself. I think I did a decent job, but I'm not sure I've got what it takes to really make it in such a cutthroat business environment. It will suit Theo, though."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him. "Lucius _will_ come home for this."

"I assumed as much. Good luck getting him in."

She scoffed. "Please. The only reason he hasn't returned is because he hasn't wanted to."

Draco tried not to take that personally; Lucius had never once visited him for his birthday or any other special occasion—not even the birth of his grandson.

Narcissa's grip on her napkin relaxed. "All right. Thank you for telling me." She seemed ready to resume her morning routine.

"I'm sure it's all over the papers. There were reporters accosting me last night when I left the Leaky." Draco limply waved his hand toward the paper. "Oh, and there's one more thing. I also walked in on Astoria and Theo, and I want a divorce."

Narcissa's eyes went wide, her hand flying to her heart. "Oh! What… what do you mean?"

"I caught them in the act, Mother. It's really simple: I want a divorce."

Her expression warred between wanting to comfort him and scandalized by his proclamation. "Draco, are… are you sure?"

He chuckled wryly. "I'm completely certain, Mother. Both that she was cheating on me with the same man who one hour later stole the company from me _and_ that I want a divorce."

Her expression was torn, and he waited for the inevitable. "I'm so sorry, Draco. She can be immediately removed from all future Malfoy financial considerations, and I wish that your experience with Astoria was better than it is, but is divorce really the route you want to pursue?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Oh, but darling, can't we work something out? Divorce is so messy, and in our circles—"

"I _know_." He paused to calm down, not wanting to argue with her. "But I simply cannot live my life the way I've been living the last eight years. This is not up for negotiation." His tone was hard and he hoped she would accept his decision without any fuss.

"No Malfoy heir has ever—"

"I don't care." Draco scowled. "My relationship with Astoria never progressed beyond two people who agreed to have a child. She got what she wanted out of this, and it was very clear from the start that she wanted our name and everything that comes with it, not me. I spent ten years with her, faithful in all ways, never even trying to involve my heart with anyone else, and I am done. I don't want to argue, I won't beg, but this is what I'm doing. If you truly care about me, you will support my decision."

Narcissa pursed her lips, then her expression gradually softened. "Oh, Draco. Has it truly been that bad? It's always seemed... tolerable."

He snorted. "Such high aspirations. Well, it's no longer _tolerable_. She and I have only ever been very good at pretending to truly care about each other."

She didn't speak right away. "You're set on this, then?"

"Completely. Immovably." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm doing it—with or without your support. Obviously, I would prefer it. After all, _you've_ got your pureblood heir to carry on the family name. Now _I'd_ like to try and find someone to share my life with."

"You have a woman in mind, I take it?"

He frowned, trying to figure out why she would have made such a conclusion. "There's nobody waiting in the wings, Mother, if that's what you're suggesting. As I said before, I haven't sought to involve my heart with anyone." He considered the days with Hermione somewhat outside of time and could therefore consider his answer to his mother truthful. Before his time travel adventure, he'd kept himself emotionally closed.

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment but didn't respond to his statement. "Well, Son, if you must, you must. I didn't lie to the Dark Lord so that you could wallow in misery for the rest of your life." She paused, then sighed heavily. "All right, then. I'll support you."

Draco released an anxious breath. "Thank you, Mother. That means a lot to me."

"You, um, caught her in the act, you said?" Narcissa peered at him.

"Yes. On my desk at work, actually." He poured himself a cup of tea, able to enjoy it now that the unpleasant business of telling his mother had concluded. "I'll be at the lawyer's office first thing when they open. Would you take Scorpius to school? I've already told him you would."

"Of course, dear. I am awfully sorry." Narcissa frowned. "I suppose this explains why things were so… frosty between you two last night."

Draco scoffed. "That's putting it mildly. It was all I could do to stay in the same room as her."

"And yet you did it for your son." She looked at him pointedly. "Have you considered how this will affect him?"

"I have, actually." He sighed. "It will be hard, but I think in the long run, seeing his parents with people they truly care about will be far better for him than if Astoria and I were to go on pretending." He couldn't tell his mother that Scorpius had already noticed that he wasn't happy; that had happened on his time jump journey, and he didn't know how—or even if he should—tell her about any of _that_.

Narcissa pursed her lips, and he could tell bringing up Scorpius had been her last effort to get him to consider something other than divorce.

Finished with his tea, Draco grabbed a few portable breakfast items and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thank you. I'll see you later."

He had just exited the room when Astoria arrived. Her eyes went wide. "Draco! I'm so glad you're here. Can we talk?"

He checked his watch; it was quarter till nine. "I've got somewhere to be in fifteen minutes. I will listen for the next ten." He didn't wait for a response but started for the Traveling Room at a brisk pace.

She hurried to keep up with him. "How are you doing?"

"I said I'd listen, Astoria." Draco shot her a warning look. "What is it that you wanted to say?"

"I just… Can you stop? For one minute?" She grabbed his arm to slow him down, and he had to adjust his movements so that he didn't spill his tea.

He did glare at her, though, hoping to convey that every second he was in her presence was a nuisance.

She frowned and began to fidget with her hands. "I'm only… I want to say that I'm sorry. _Truly._ That our lives haven't quite turned out the way you hoped they might have. I know that I wasn't really open to anything with you, but I was so angry with my parents and bitter over having no say in the matter whatsoever that I resolved to despise you for the rest of my life."

Draco bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her. This sounded like the sort of conversation they should have had at the beginning of their marriage, not the end.

"All right. That would have been nice to know. You know. Sooner." So much for not snapping at her.

She bit her lip. "I just want to know… what happens now? I haven't seen Theo since… well, since—"

Draco held up a hand. "I understand your meaning. Here's what's going to happen. I'm headed to the lawyer and I'm going to file for divorce. If all goes well, you'll get an owl with the information."

Astoria went pale. "A d-divorce? Draco, are you sure?"

"Completely." He gave her an easy smile. "I'm headed there now, actually."

"But, divorce is so… improper! Nobody we know has done it, regardless of how they felt!"

He shrugged. "I don't really care. _I'm_ doing it. If you really want to do something for me, then you'll make the process as easy as you can. I know it's going to be unpleasant, but… since it was you who cheated, it might be in your best interest to help me."

"Are you threatening me?" She narrowed her eyes.

Draco rolled his, and part of him wanted to let her think he was. "No, Astoria, but the details are bound to come out if it drags on. Something quick and quiet is in everybody's best interests, wouldn't you agree?"

He could see her considering the angles, weighing her options. Finally, she held her chin high. "I love Theo. I have for a very long time."

"That's great, Astoria." He wondered how long but didn't care enough to press for more details. "Wouldn't you rather go and marry him, then?"

"I suppose so. But—"

"What is it about this life that you want to continue?" He tried to keep his tone controlled, though he felt a great well of bitterness and skepticism building inside him.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "You want the truth?"

"Of course. Please, let's have no more lies between us." He crossed his arms, too, mirroring her angry stance.

"I like the prestige and the gold."

"Another thing I wish I'd known much sooner." Draco clenched his jaw. He'd always suspected as much, but hearing it straight from her lips was still jarring. "I'll say it again: make this quick and easy for me, and I'll compensate you accordingly." He wanted to add that she'd be well situated with Theo, since he had taken over the company, but he hoped it wouldn't last very long. There was simply no way Lucius wouldn't come to reclaim things.

"What are we talking here?"

"Astoria, you cheated on me. You really have no room to make any demands. I'll at least give you equal to your Fidelity Bonus—which is laughable, because I assume you and Theo have been toeing that line for a while now."

She stuck out her chin once more, reminding Draco of Scorpius when he was about five. "Double that, and I'll sign today."

"Done." He grinned maliciously, then inclined his head. "Let's seal this with a spell."

Astoria huffed but complied, holding out her left hand. Draco grasped it, muttered a strong but simple binding spell while they repeated the terms of their agreement. As soon as it was complete, he released her as though it burned.

"Pleasure doing business with you. The papers will be in the post by the end of the day." He gave her a brief nod and spun on his heel, feeling lighter than he'd felt in a very long time.

**ooo**

Draco was whistling by lunch; the papers for divorce were already filed. It was amazing what a hefty pile of gold could do to speed things along. A nondescript owl was currently bearing the papers to Astoria, and Draco had already signed his. The actual divorce wouldn't be finalized for some time, but at least the process was started. He felt he could see Hermione without holding back.

Not that he planned to ambush her with his feelings, but he didn't intend to waste any time, either.

He arrived home at the Manor in the best mood he'd been in since he could remember, ready to get started on a new chapter in his life. He didn't make it out of the Traveling Room, however, when a thought occurred to him. He quickly changed his immediate plans, donned a large, heavy cloak to hide his identity, and Apparated to Diagon Alley. Half an hour later, he had a small bag of Muggle money in his pocket and he'd Transfigured his clothing somewhat so that he'd pass for a Muggle. Then he Apparated behind the dumpster outside the café where he and Hermione had met over the years.

Smoothing down his hair, he strode onto the street and into the shop with a spring in his step. He whistled while he waited for his turn to order, then chose his and Hermione's favorite things: teas and treats. He had done the same the year before, but everything felt fresh today.

It was a new day, after all.

With his purchases in hand, Draco hailed a cab and headed for the Leaky Cauldron. As he rode along in silence, he wondered what she would say when she saw him. He wanted to have a very long, detailed conversation with her, but when he went to pick Scorpius up, there wouldn't be the time for that. Should he ask her to dinner? They had to be so, so careful, both on account of his now pending divorce and Scorpius. He'd need to proceed with caution, and he should probably ask someone how to date when you had a child so that Scorpius would be part of it but also protected in case things didn't work out with Hermione.

He chuckled to himself; she hadn't even agreed to a date, yet here he was, imagining telling Scorpius about them.

When he reached the Leaky, he thanked and paid the driver, then used the fireplace to reach the school. His long jaunt into Muggle London had put him a little bit behind schedule to collect his son, but that worked out in his favor anyway because he wanted to speak to Hermione alone.

Draco removed the Charms he'd placed on the food before knocking on Hermione's classroom door. He could see through the window that she was at her desk, and when she saw him, her eyes went wide. She quickly motioned for him to enter, which he did with a sudden knot of nerves in his gut.

She stood up as he opened the door, smoothing down her skirt and looking adorably flustered. When her eyes landed on the tea and little brown bag he carried, she broke into a big smile.

"Hello, Miss Granger. I'm sorry that we missed our yearly venture into London yesterday, so I brought it to you instead." He wanted to slap himself for how ridiculous he sounded, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Draco? Is… is this really you? Are you here?" Her words sounded slightly breathless as she accepted the proffered cup of tea.

"Just how you like it." He nodded toward her beverage, then handed her a chocolate croissant.

"You're really here." Her voice was an awed whisper.

Her words were like a flame to a fuse, and he found himself wishing he could forget everything—Astoria, his mother, his divorce, losing the company—even the added level of complication due to having a child—and sweep her into his arms and kiss her. He'd kiss her without regard for their tea that he'd so carefully preserved so that it would arrive in pristine condition for her enjoyment, without concern for the croissants which tasted best fresh so the layers were at peak crispness. A vision even flashed through his mind of sweeping her things off her desk, sitting her on top of it, and kissing her with abandon.

That last visual left his mouth dry and his heart racing, so he tried to think of unpleasant and boring things.

"I'm sorry I missed yesterday, but it was too late once I got back. Or, woke up, rather." He chuckled.

Hermione took a sip of her tea, peering at him over the plastic top. "I look forward to hearing everything."

"Right, well, about that." He set his fist down on her desk and spun it slowly about his middle knuckle. "I was hoping… we might talk over dinner?" She sucked in a breath and he rushed to finish his thought, hyper aware that it sounded like he was asking her out. He had no real reason to expect or even hope she would say yes to such a request. "Right now isn't a good time, for obvious reasons, but my mother is here and can put Scorpius to bed. We'd need to go somewhere in Muggle London, also for obvious reasons, so if you'd rather not, I understand."

But Hermione gave him a small smile. "Dinner tonight sounds fine, Draco. I know a great place for Thai food, if you'd like to try it."

"All right. Yes. Eight sound okay?"

"That's fine." She pulled out a slip of paper and wrote down an address for him. "It's near the café. Why don't we meet there and walk to the restaurant? Oh, and it's very casual."

Draco nodded and pocketed the paper. Things felt very strange at the moment, knowing how much he wanted to call it a date but at the same time not feeling ready to put his heart out there when he didn't know where she stood. "Great. I suppose I ought to get Scorpius now."

To his relief, Scorpius was still in the pick-up area and not wandering about the grounds. His face lit up when he saw his father, and he immediately left what he was doing and ran over to Draco.

"Daddy! You're here. Did you talk to Miss Granger? About the drill?"

Draco chuckled to himself. "No, I'm sorry. It slipped my mind."

Scorpius gave him an exasperated look and grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's go then."

Draco allowed himself to be led back to Hermione's classroom, where she looked surprised to see him again. Her expression softened into a smile upon seeing Scorpius. Once they were inside the room, Scorpius suddenly went shy and half-hid behind Draco's leg.

"Scorpius and I," he began with a smile, "would like to inquire about a drill."

Her expression was one of surprise, and she quickly smiled wider as she crossed to where they were standing. She knelt down so she was on Scorpius's level. "A drill? Scorpius, what do you want the drill for?"

"We'regoingtobuildatreefort."

Hermione glanced up at Draco. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"The tree fort." Scorpius spoke each word deliberately, as though annoyed that she hadn't heard him the first time.

"Ah, the tree fort! Are you going to build one?"

Scorpius nodded. "With Daddy."

"I see. That sounds like a lot of fun! And why do you want the drill?"

"You said we should try things the Muggle way sometimes, and I want to try this."

She laughed and stood up, addressing both of them. "Quite an ambitious project for trying something Muggle. I'll have to think about this, Scorpius, because do you remember something important I said about drills? How do they get their power?"

"Electricity," he replied without hesitation.

"Yes, and something tells me your home doesn't have any of that."

Scorpius shook his head morosely, as though it was one of the greatest tragedies of his childhood. Draco had to bite back a laugh.

Hermione seemed amused as well. "Tell you what, there _is_ a kind of drill that will work, but I don't have one, and I'll have to see if I know anybody who does. Once I find one, I can bring it to you and show you how to use it."

Scorpius looked up at Draco with bright, excited eyes. "Dada, can she? Can she come over and show us the drill?"

Draco chuckled and swung his son's arm. "Of course. Whenever she's ready." His eyes met hers and his breath hitched at the thought of her coming to his home. "But what about the electricity? You said drills need it."

"There's a kind of drill that uses batteries. They still need to be charged with electricity, but they last a while. I can maybe get a second battery, and that should be plenty."

Draco tutted. "Just get what you need, Granger, and send me the bill."

Both she and Scorpius looked at him, he with shock and she with an indefinable expression: amusement laced with something else, something... dangerous.

"I mean, Miss Granger." Draco cleared his throat and gave Scorpius a penitent look. "My apologies, I suppose something of an old habit slipped in. When we were in school together, Miss Granger and I primarily called each other by our surnames."

Hermione clasped her hands, all traces of the mysterious glint in her eyes gone. "Well, that's sorted. Scorpius, I will get in touch with your father to arrange a time for me to come over with the drill."

Scorpius nodded excitedly. "I'll make some biscuits with Grand'Mere. Or Daddy, if she's not here anymore when you come."

She smiled warmly. "That sounds lovely."

"Thank you." Draco was oddly anxious to get Scorpius away. He feared that his son might continue extending invitations, and then things could get awkward—especially if their evening didn't go very well tonight or if he got any impression that she wasn't interested in him. "I look forward to hearing from you, Miss Granger. And I mean it, get whatever we need."

Hermione regarded him for a moment. "Whatever you need? Because you're going to need more than a drill to make a tree fort."

"Yes. Whatever we need. I trust you."

"All right. I'll see what I can do."

Draco tugged Scorpius's hand. "Let's go, Score. I'm sure Miss Granger has things she needs to do."

Scorpius waved to his teacher and followed his father out. They used the Floo to get home, and Scorpius ran off to tell his grandmother all about his day. Draco chuckled as he watched him disappear around a corner.

Draco made for his study, undoing the top button of his shirt as he walked. When he reached the hallway where the door to his study was located, he saw Astoria approaching from the opposite direction. Their eyes met and he fought a grimace. She gave him a half smile and held up a stack of parchment.

"All signed. Just like we discussed."

He took them from her and tucked them under his arm. "Thank you. This means a lot."

"Have you thought about telling our son? What's going to happen with him?"

Draco leaned against the wall. "He'll stay with me, of course. You know that. We'll work something out for you to be in his life, Astoria. I'm not trying to take him away."

She chewed on her lip. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider trying. But in the end, a Malfoy Marriage Contract is iron-clad, and there's no point. All I ask, Draco, is that he doesn't know why all of this is happening. You know, about… about Theo. And me."

"I had no intention of telling him that. I believe it's enough to say that we love him, but we want him to have parents who love each other, and you and I simply don't."

Astoria nodded thoughtfully. "Any idea how long this will take?"

"No. The lawyer said it largely depends on you, but with everything with our families, it could take a few months." The shortest he anticipated was six weeks, but he felt a more realistic timeline was somewhere from two to three months. "You do realize this is the best thing, right?"

She sighed. "Yes, I do. I know it's better for me, and I assume it will be better for you. And Scorpius really does deserve better than two parents who are essentially estranged roommates who hold hands for the cameras. He must know something isn't right."

"He does. He mentioned something recently."

"Are you… seeing someone?" Astoria stuck the toe of her heel into the plush rug and spun her ankle around, making a temporary divot.

"No. I'm not." _Yet._

"Will you wait until the divorce is final? What do you want me to do about Theo?"

Draco snorted. "You should at least wait until there's an announcement in the _Prophet_ about it. After that, I couldn't care less what you do about Theo." He really wanted to ask if she had known about Theo's plan to take the company. He wondered whether sleeping with Astoria was some kind of attempt to further ruin Draco's life, though Theo must have known that he wouldn't especially care.

It was a mystery, one he was only mildly curious about but not nearly enough to inquire. At least, not right now. Maybe someday.

"Well, I'll have my things removed from the Manor soon and we'll need to figure out a time to talk to Scorpius. I guess… have a good day."

She held out her hand. "It's… it's been an experience, hasn't it?"

Draco shook it, despite feeling it was a very strange thing to do. "It has. Thank you, again, for Scorpius. You will forever mean a lot to me because of him."

Astoria leaned toward him, faltered, then huffed and quickly threw her arms around him. "You're a good man, Draco Malfoy. Any witch would be lucky to have you."

He very lightly returned her embrace, relieved when she pulled out of it just as quickly. "Thanks. Good luck with Theo."

She waved as she walked away.

Draco shut himself in his study and let out a long, relieved sigh. That had gone as well as it possibly could have. Now he only had to fill the time before he would see Hermione, and he decided to go flying. It would help clear his mind and turn his thoughts away from over-analyzing everything that had happened today and might happen tonight.

Yes. Flying would be just the thing.

**ooo**

Draco arrived at the address Hermione had given him five minutes early. He was nervous, exceedingly so, but his afternoon has passed pleasantly enough. His mother had been suspicious when he'd said he had dinner plans, but as he hadn't dressed up in any way, wearing dark denims and a jumper over a collared shirt, she hadn't pestered him too much.

No Malfoy would go on a date in such attire.

And it _wasn't_ a date. That word hadn't been uttered, and he didn't think of it as one, yet his heart was still racing and his palms were sweaty and he didn't know what to do with himself.

Hermione arrived just two minutes after him and smiled warmly. She wasn't dressed as carefully as she'd been two years before, the day they'd spent nearly six hours together, but he thought she was even more beautiful.

"Hi, Draco."

He swallowed hard. "Hermione. Um, I put our name on the list. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

She nodded. "Good. Did you find it okay? I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"The gent driving the cab dropped me off right in front." He grinned, hoping that he'd soon feel completely comfortable around her again. The bundle of nerves currently residing in his gut would surely dissipate soon.

They were shown to their table, a booth near the back, and after only one shared look, Hermione cast a few spells to ensure that they wouldn't be overheard.

They looked over their menus and ordered, and as soon as the waiter had gone, Hermione leaned forward on the table, her eyes sparkling. "Alright. Tell me everything. What happened when you woke up?"

Draco took a deep breath and launched into the story. He told her about feeling so sick he thought his head was splitting open, about Cecil and the Recovery Potion, all the way down to the fairy that Scorpius had befriended.

Hermione gasped lightly at that. "The fairy! I remember them! They were invited to come to the school along with an array of other Magical Creatures to introduce the children to the more sedate and calm creatures. We had a niffler, fairies, a unicorn, all sorts."

"Well, the fairy took a liking to Scorpius." He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. They'd both ordered glasses of wine, and he was well into his by that point. She had mostly eaten her food while he'd talked, so he hoped to follow suit now that the bulk of his story was told.

"I'm not the least bit surprised. He's a wonderful child, Draco. Truly a joy to teach and know, even just the little that I know him."

Draco chuckled. "He's only asked me four times if you've written about the drill."

"Oh, dear, I suppose I need to get busy on that then. For your sake." Hermione laughed.

"Precisely. Though I'm curious what other things you'd need besides the drill."

"Well, to begin, you need screws, which you use with the drill. They are driven into the planks of wood to secure them. So you'll also need wood. And a plan." She laughed lightly. "Though I'm not in charge of that part. If you and Scorpius work that out, you can send me a list of what you'll need. Or at least, what you want it to look like, and I can figure the rest out. I'll probably ask my dad for help, since I'm not exactly fluent in power tools."

He blinked, then decided he had no choice but to trust her. "I'll take your word for it."

"Probably best." She grinned, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a minute.

"I still can't quite believe it's real." He shook his head with a disbelieving smile. "Do you actually have a memory of me coming to you third year, after you slapped me?"

She nodded. "That, and the next day, when you treated me like rubbish and told me I was raging mad to think you would ever talk to me."

Draco cringed. "Right, sorry about that..."

"We've had this conversation already, remember?" She waved him off. "Don't be sorry for it now. I understand. I've got pretty thick skin, and once you spoke to me in fourth, everything made sense."

"It's still so strange to think that was real." He shook his head. "That I lived an extra eighteen days yesterday."

"So… what now?" She took a sip from her wine. "Where do things stand with your business?"

"Oh!" He'd nearly forgotten to tell her everything he'd done that day, though he was hesitant to mention Astoria. Wouldn't it sound an awful lot like he was telling her about the divorce for the sake of seeing her reaction? Though she knew everything that had gone wrong and his plans for the future, _and_ she'd find out eventually. "I told my mother about it. She was angry and is convinced my father will come and set things right. I told her I don't care, but that's not quite true. My pride took a major hit yesterday."

"Astoria, you mean?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "I suppose. Even though it's not like she and I had anything, I think there was still a sting."

"What did you do when you saw them?"

"Nothing really. It was such a shock. When I walked into my office, they were, uh, just about at the end. Theo, who I suppose must hate me, just kept pumping into her, looking at me, until he, uh, finished. It was all very quick. I then proceeded to my desk, took something from a drawer, and left. I think I said something to her about dinner with our son, but I can't remember." He grimaced. "My assistant had come in behind me. I don't know what she thought about the whole thing." He downed the rest of his wine, surprised at the strength of his feelings now.

Anger.

He wanted to _bury_ Theodore Nott.

Then he felt a soft touch, and he looked down to see Hermione had put her hand on his, which he'd unconsciously balled into a fist.

"I think it's extremely good of you not to want revenge."

He frowned down at the table. "You weren't in my thoughts just now."

Hermione sighed. "Of course it's normal, but when you talked to me before, you didn't seem upset."

"No. I felt mostly... numb. But I've felt numb for so many years, how do I know what's real?"

Hermione retracted her hand and looked thoughtful. "Honestly, the anger is real. Being numb is not. But you can be angry and still not retaliate in a spiteful way. I think Theo is delusional if he thinks his plan is really going to work, but once the shock is past, it would be strange if you didn't feel angry."

He shrugged, feeling a bit like he was under a strong lens, wishing to change the subject. "I'm honestly not upset about the company; it was never my desire to work there."

"It's more the principle that angers you. He worked for you, then took something that was yours."

"I suppose. Probably." He forced a smile and looked her in the eye. "But I'd rather not talk about Theo tonight."

Hermione nodded. "Of course not. Have you continued writing down your experience? I think it's absolutely fascinating."

"Let me guess, you're only here for academic purposes?" he drawled.

Her eyes went wide and she lowered her gaze. "No, Draco, I'm… I'm here because you're my friend."

The way she said 'friend' made him squirm unpleasantly. He decided to ignore that for now. "I've kept up with the writing. Though I've not yet added anything since my return."

"What do you want to do with it?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea. It's been good, I think, to write about my experience, and I've thought about turning it into a story of some kind, but I'm not sure how it ends." He'd once considered writing it as a fairy tale, much like the one Hermione had found, only he still hoped for a happy ending to his reality. If Hermione said yes when he asked her out, if things went well... He liked the idea of that ending very much.

"Well, just remember, you've already got one interested reader." She smiled at him brilliantly, and he was loathe for their evening to end. Their plates were empty, they'd consumed two glasses of wine each, and he never wanted her to leave him.

When the bill came, Draco hurried to pick it up, despite her protest. "I asked you to dinner, so it's on me."

She narrowed her eyes playfully for a moment, then her lips broke into a smirk. Merlin, he wanted to kiss those lips. "Fine, but I'm buying ice cream."

His heart leapt but he tried to stay calm. "Two scoops."

She laughed. "Deal."

Since they were near the café, they were also close to the ice cream shop they'd visited years before. As they walked, Hermione told him all about how much she loved her work, how she had seen true harmony between the children, how happy the Muggle parents were to know their children were being taken care of and well educated.

"I exhibited magic from a very young age, and nobody knew what was going on. I actually learned to control it all by myself, even though I had no clue what was happening. I never dared try to make it happen, of course, because I had no clue what it was, but I got to where I could at least keep things from happening that shouldn't. I could feel when I was about to have a burst. It would have been so nice to know the truth when I was four rather than having to wait until I was eleven."

Draco opened the door of the ice cream shop, and five minutes later, they had their cones.

"Want to go to the park? See if our bench is still there?" he asked, nodding toward the park.

"Sure."

They walked in silence, enjoying their treats for the few minutes it took to walk to the park. It was mostly empty, save one jogger they saw, but it was well lit and felt like they were in the middle of nowhere—except for the occasional car horn.

The bench was easy to find, and they chatted about nothing while they ate the ice cream. It reminded Draco so much of the last time they'd done this, that time when it had felt like a date and it had seemed neither one of them wanted it to end.

Draco swallowed his last bite of cone and turned on the seat so he was angled toward Hermione. She was still licking her treat just at the top plane of the cone, and her eyes were alight as she gave him a smile.

He felt strangely energized, his entire body thrumming with nervous energy. He watched her tongue dart out to swipe at the ice cream and had to look away, swallowing hard. He still hadn't told her about Astoria, or about the freshly inked papers in the drawer of his desk in his study at the Manor. He would, though, before they said goodnight.

She took a bite of her cone; he could tell by the crunching sound. Between bites, she spoke. "I know you woke up this morning and the time jumping is over, but how does it feel? Was it strange to wake up and not question when you were?"

He sighed and stretched his legs out, then crossed one over the other so he could continue to face her. "I absolutely questioned when I was! I had to know as soon as possible. After I'd determined that it was, in fact, the twenty- _seventh_ of April, everything felt strange. Very disorienting. I've spent the last eighteen days worried about affecting the future, so it felt odd not rushing to my Pensieve to see what I had done in the past. Even though the old man told me it was all over, I wasn't quite ready to fully trust it until this morning."

"What did you do? Once you knew it was real?"

"I got busy with my list of things to do. First up was telling my mother everything—including my intention to get divorced." He chanced a glance at her face, their eyes meeting briefly.

Hermione's eyes widened before she averted her gaze, staring at the pavement in front of the bench. "How did she take it? I know you were unsure how she'd react."

Draco chuckled. "She reacted exactly as I expected, actually, and tried to convince me to consider staying. But I think the fact that Astoria cheated with Theo, who then stole the company, coupled with my absolute refusal to even entertain thoughts of staying with Astoria, brought her around. It took less time than I'd anticipated, honestly. There's already an heir, a pureblood son, and I'm sure that helped her adjust to the idea. Then I bumped into Astoria. Figured I ought to tell her."

Hermione's head whipped around, her curls flying out as she turned. "She was there? In your house?"

"Sure. She technically lives there, being my wife and all. We haven't shared rooms with each other in years, though." He shrugged. "Most days I only saw her at dinnertime."

"Still. After everything, I'm surprised she'd have the nerve to show her face!"

"I'm actually glad she was there. It turned out to be a good thing. We came to an agreement wherein she agreed to make the divorce as smooth a process as possible." He grinned at her. "We've already signed the papers."

Hermione frowned. "Wait, you're not—you can't get divorced in a day, right?"

"No, but my lawyer and I drew up terms, and she and I signed it. Now begins the process of magically separating our families, sorting out who gets what; although, she put herself in a bad position by cheating. She loses most of her rights that way."

Hermione scowled. "Even though she was unhappy and trapped in a marriage it sounds like she didn't even want?"

He was surprised at her vehement exclamation in Astoria's defense. "Don't worry, she's getting everything she wants."

"What about Scorpius?"

"He stays with me. He's a Malfoy, and I've always been the more present parent anyway." He shrugged. "I understand it must sound very mercenary to you, but you've never been in this situation. All I ask is that you don't hate me over it."

Her expression softened immediately. "Oh no, Draco. I'd never hate you for this. I'm just... angry _for_ you. And her, to be frank. Because I don't want anybody to be in marriages that are merely transactional." Despite the softening, she still seemed to have fire around the edges. It was captivating, and his heart swelled to think that the fire was, in part, for him.

"The good news, anyway, is that it's done. Or, I mean, it's begun. But there's no going back now." It was an immense relief, one he'd waited eighteen days to feel.

Hermione laughed. "I suppose in your mind and heart, it's done, and now all that remains is the paperwork."

"As I said, it's going to get worse before it's really and finally over, but Astoria will be moving out soon after we speak to Scorpius." He took a deep breath and looked away from her, into the darkness of the park. He straightened his body out and rested both arms on the back of the bench. "I am ready to move on with my life."

He could see lights in the distance, and the moving ones he knew belonged to cars. He was about to say something when he felt a warm touch on his hand. Instinct made him flinch, but then he saw that Hermione had turned in her spot and was facing him, one leg fully on the bench, one arm resting on the back of it like his. She'd put her hand out to touch his, and when their eyes met, she boldly laced her fingers through his.

The contact sent electric sparks through his body and his breath hitched. She looked like she might want to kiss him, but he couldn't let himself assume anything. Maybe holding hands was where she was at, and he didn't want to risk misinterpreting the gesture.

Still, though, she was gazing at him, her eyes narrowed infinitesimally, as though she were deep in thought about something. He decided to take the next step and he lowered their joined hands to the bench, moving his body so that he mirrored hers, shifting closer to her as he did so. Their eyes were locked and Hermione bit her lip. A warm breeze wafted between them, blowing a few loose strands of her hair into her face. She used her free hand to try and push them out of the way, but it was awkward, since that hand was on the opposite side of her face. After trying for a moment, she laughed sheepishly.

Draco decided that the time had come for him to declare his intentions, even though it hadn't been his plan to do so tonight—not that he'd really had a plan to begin with—so he released the hand he was holding and scooted closer to tuck the errant curls behind her ear. Then he was close, very close, and he lightly, gently, trailed his finger along her jawline, stopping at her lips. He flicked his gaze up to hers and saw that her eyes were suddenly very intense. His heart was hammering so loudly he thought she could surely hear it. He thought she was going to say something, and they sat that way for a long moment—could have been an eternity—teetering on the edge once again.

But he didn't want to wait. Not for a second longer, not after everything he'd been through, how sure he was that he wanted her—not when she seemed to be giving him permission.

Draco touched his hand to her cheek more firmly, and with a confidence he only partially felt, dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Instantly, he felt on fire and at the same time like he couldn't breathe properly. She kissed him back, eagerly leaning into him, gripping his arm that still rested on the back of the bench as though afraid he might try to run away.

When she ran her tongue over his lips he thought he might explode, but he complied, deepening the kiss before she did, sliding his hand from her cheek to the back of her head. She pulled herself even closer to him until their legs touched, but he wanted more—more contact, more pressure, more delightful release of the pent-up desire. His time in the past hadn't seemed like much, mere days out of entire years, but apparently, it was all he'd needed to decide that she was the only one he wanted.

The wind blew sharply and they pulled apart, startled by the chilliness. Then their eyes met, and they both chuckled awkwardly. Draco didn't know what to say, and his heart was still thudding loudly in his chest, but Hermione had ideas of her own. In a motion so quick it barely registered, she'd lifted both of her legs up and laid them over his lap, nudging his leg off the bench so she could get as close as possible. Then she grabbed his face in her hands and pulled it down, crashing her lips to his. She pressed her body against him as much as was possible, eagerly moving her lips against his, then wrapped her arms around his neck.

Draco lost all sense of space and time, and soon they were snogging like teenagers hiding in a broom closet. He threaded his fingers into her hair as he slid his tongue across her lips. She whimpered, parting her lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. He was lost in the feel of her lips on his, the softness of her hair, the bare skin at the back of her neck. In the next moment, she was fully in his lap, her legs on either side of him and her arms around his neck. Draco took hold of her hips and held her firmly in place, delighting in the ribbon of skin he could feel above the waistband of her trousers.

He groaned against her mouth when he slipped his fingers under the hem of her jumper, splaying his hands against the bare skin of her back, jealous to touch every inch of her he possibly could. His hands roamed up until he reached the band of her bra, yet still she didn't seem inclined to protest. He then drew his hands forward, his thumb brushing the soft curve of skin. She sighed and scooted closer and his eyes popped open because she'd ground against his most sensitive organ, and it hit him that they were in the middle of a bloody _public_ park.

His hands froze and he abruptly pulled out of the kiss. Hermione made a small squeak of protest that nearly made him kiss her again, but he managed to refrain. Both breathing hard, he lowered his hands back to her hips and squeezed slightly. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she released a breathy sigh.

"Granger." His voice was rough and gravelly, scratchy as though he were dying of thirst—maybe he was.

Her eyes met his; her expression was one of pure hunger that rocked him to the core. Her gaze darted to his lips again, but he shook his head slightly, still out of breath, and rested his forehead against hers.

"That was… _bloody hell."_

Hermione bit her lip and leaned back so she could look into his eyes, worry dancing in hers. "What are you thinking? Was that… too much? Too soon?"

Draco's eyes went wide. "I… I'm not thinking. I can't form a coherent thought."

She laughed lightly and carefully extricated herself from his lap, returning to the seat beside him. "I take it you want to stop?"

"I do not." He dragged a hand through his hair, feeling slightly shaky and still… very much wanting to continue kissing her and… other things. "But we're in a bloody park."

Hermione hummed, still smiling, then reached for his hand and again twined her fingers with his. It was enough to ground him while also making his heart beat wildly and his nerves dance in delight. He quirked a smile at her, and she moved from sitting beside him to face him, one leg up on the bench, just like they'd been before they'd started kissing.

"I hope that was all right with your, um, divorce rules. You'd said certain things were allowed under that Fidelity Clause; I'm assuming kissing is all right?"

He swallowed hard, still trying to bend his will to focus on her and what she was saying. "Kissing… is allowed, but with the papers we signed today, we're officially separated and no longer bound to that clause."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, I see. That's… that's interesting." She would be the end of him, right here and right now, if her tone meant what he thought. "Before we explore that further, though, I need to know what you're thinking." She bit her lip as though worried about what he might say.

"At best… I'm thinking that it's a shame we're here in this park right now, but… also that this isn't how I wanted to go about this. I… I'd planned to ask you out, on a date, but not tonight, because I had no idea how it would be received—"

Hermione laughed. "I suppose you know my answer now."

"I think so." He chuckled sheepishly. "Unless you make a habit of snogging just anyone on public park benches."

"No." Her eyes sparkled. "Not with just anyone."

Draco looked at their joined hands and rubbed the back of hers with his thumb. "I'm certainly not complaining, Hermione, and I obviously… I obviously enjoyed that, but… will you tell me how it's possible? I don't… I really didn't expect—"

She raised a finger to his lips to quiet him, and he was grateful. Her eyes were wide open, beautiful windows into her heart, open pools of emotion. "I have waited for this day for years, Draco."

His heart thudded almost painfully in his chest. "What do you mean? You've waited for what day? And what do you mean by years?"

She arched an eyebrow in amusement. "I've waited for the day when you'd be here. _You_. Finally where you belong."

Draco swallowed hard, his brain slow to accept the full breadth of what she might mean. "I don't… I don't know quite what you mean."

She bit her lip and looked into the park. "What I mean, Draco, is that I've been feeling things for you for… years." She shook her head with a sigh. "It felt so silly. I only ever saw _you_ once a year. How could I possibly have romantic thoughts for you? And yet, I did. I tried hard not to because it felt absurd to have feelings for someone I saw once a year. How could that possibly work? And the idea of trying to wait for you felt insurmountable. Scorpius wasn't even born yet; how could I get through eight years of waiting?"

"I agree. That's too much." Merlin, he felt awful knowing that he _had_ altered the course of her life by approaching her in third year— _significantly._ Who knows what her life would have been like without that?

"You're not… angry with me? For the way I inserted myself into your life, potentially affecting your entire future?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Draco. Just because you reached out to me didn't automatically mean that I'd fall for you some day! That happened because of choices _I_ made. But it doesn't mean they were very difficult to live with. When you brought Scorpius to meet me, those were the hardest few hours I'd experienced in a very long time. Seeing you with him was… well, confusing and hard, and part of me wanted to tell you how I felt, but… I couldn't quite do it. Trusting you was impossible at that time."

He frowned, surprised. "Trusting me?"

"You said you were going to divorce Astoria, but it was hard to really believe that. I saw you two in the papers on a regular basis, and you seemed happy."

Draco sighed. "I told you all about that, though. I said I would."

"I know, but I was so young, and there you were, with a child already, and it was… too much for me then. It's why I stayed away for the next three years. I couldn't simply… _wait_ … until you got through with your time traveling. It wasn't fair to me." Now she met his gaze and hers was strong, unrepentant. "You were only passing days, but for me it was years. I had to live my life without living for Astoria's birthday."

Draco nodded earnestly, his thoughts a whirring jumble. "Yes, I completely agree. I never… I would never have asked you to." He thought of the copy of Witch Weekly he'd seen with the photo of her and Krum. "It's… one reason I never said anything or acted upon how I felt. I refused to let that happen because it was unfair to you—not that I had any idea of your feelings, I'd only determined to pursue you once I got back to my time. And, of course, I had to mind the timeline."

"I know that." She smiled. "I promise, I understood everything. Well, I had no idea you had feelings for me, but it was probably better that way." She paused to consider further. "No, it was definitely better that way. It would have been so much harder, had I known, to walk away when I did, taking those years to try and put you out of my mind, so... thank you. Anyway, I managed to move on. Mostly. I dated a few people, was even slightly serious with one."

"What happened?" He had to swallow the question of whom she'd been slightly serious with. "What changed, why did you want to start meeting again?"

"I saw you. Your past you, I mean." She sighed. "I told you before I couldn't get the thought of a school out of my mind, and since you'd told me how much you'd wanted something like that for Scorpius, I approached you."

He nodded. "I remember. We talked about it before."

"Yes, but what I didn't tell you was that when I saw you again, when I approached you about the school, all of my feelings came rushing back, and it wasn't even the right _you_. It was a younger version of you, but you'd already gone through much of the changes toward becoming who you are now, and... I knew that, if you were going to be in my life, sending your son to my school, that I wouldn't be able to stop my feelings for you. I was already drawn to you, and watching you change, even just the little I saw, was fascinating. Every time we interacted, you felt closer to being _you._ "

Draco shook his head with a wry chuckle. "I remember that first meeting, the way you breezed into my dull, boring existence like a breath of fresh air. I remember feeling lighter for days afterward. Sadly, I was still too numb to be as affected by you as I should have been."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? So when did I begin to affect you, then? Clearly it wasn't tonight."

He chuckled. "No. It was... Maybe six months ago? The kids at school put on a play."

She groaned and threw her head back, then dropped it into her free hand. "That was one of my worst ideas. I'm not ashamed to admit it."

"No! It was one of the best nights of my life!" She gave him a skeptical look. "I mean it. Scorpius was so serious about his role, his part as... a tree, third from the left, and I couldn't keep a straight face watching him stand there so very still with that important look on his face."

Hermione laughed and drummed her fingers on the bench seat. "It was an amusing evening."

"And that's when I started to really see you. Watching you with the kids, seeing how patient you were despite all the mishaps... I found myself, about halfway through the night, unable to keep my gaze from straying your way." He gave her a half smile. "It was the start of... Let's call it a heightened awareness of you. As I've said, I was—"

"Numb." She smiled sadly at him.

"Yes. But by the time yesterday rolled around, I had progressed to the point where I felt the beginnings of something develop for you. Then, after seeing Astoria, I was jolted out of that numb state. And I started spending so much time with you that my initial hints of attraction grew into... something more."

"When did that start, exactly?"

Draco shrugged. "Sometime after I was released from Azkaban. You were still young when I first appeared, and you didn't look or even act like the person you are now. But over the years, I started to recognize _you_ more."

She sighed and scooted closer, drawing his hand around her shoulder and tucking herself into his side. "When I admitted to myself I had feelings for your past self, even in a nebulous, unusual way, since it wasn't really _you_ , I realized it was inevitable. Knowing this version of you who had traveled back in time predisposed me to being attracted to you when I met you a few years ago." She smiled helplessly. "It can be confusing to talk about, but I kept _you_ , who only yesterday traveled back in time and befriended me, distinctly separate in my mind from your past self."

He chuckled. "It makes perfect sense to me."

The wind blew around them, promising rain, but Draco was in no hurry to move. He was perfectly content to stay right there, if she would stay beside him. He still couldn't quite believe she was there, snuggled next to him, his arm around her after a truly dizzying snog—on a public park bench of all places.

"So, what happens now?" Her voice was small when she spoke, and she pushed against him even more, as though trying to meld into his side.

Draco removed his arm from behind her and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers. "I've thought about this a good bit."

She chuckled. "Have you now?"

"You'd be surprised." He grinned. "I had every intention of asking you out, remember, and I had a whole speech prepared, plus a lengthy description of how things would proceed in the event you accepted."

"A speech? You mean, I missed the speech because we kissed?" She pouted playfully. "I'm disappointed now."

He smiled but began to gently rub his thumb over the back of her hand. "I do know that nothing we do until my divorce is final can be public. It shouldn't take more than three months. That's what my lawyer said, anyway, but I don't really know what to expect, having never done this before. There's also Scorpius to consider. You're his teacher, and that could be a problem if things don't work out." His throat constricted slightly, resisting the words he spoke, as though the very thought of them not working made him physically ill. "Not to mention, he's going to be hit with some very hard things in the coming weeks, and I don't want to make anything harder on him."

Draco paused, both in his speech and his ministrations to her hand. "It feels unfair to ask you to commit to anything at this point. It had been my intention to make myself known in subtle ways, and then approach you once things were finalized, but…"

"Then you kissed me," she supplied with a smirk. "And it was incredible."

"I did. And it was." He chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I didn't want to ask you to hide anything. If you'd rather wait, that's fine with me."

Hermione considered his words. "I think... well, my preference is to jump right in, but I think you've thought about this a lot, and I need to follow your lead. You have a son, and he takes precedence for you. Whatever you think is best."

Draco sighed. "I would be quite happy ignoring everything and starting a relationship now. While I can't ignore it all, we could still date, unofficially. It might give us a chance to make sure this is something we want to pursue without any outside pressure. Obviously Scorpius would need to be told before the general public finds out."

"I think we should wait at least until the school year is over." Hermione gave a determined nod. "The fact that I'm his teacher makes me want to be extra cautious."

"Wait to start dating?" His heart sank slightly, and he realized how anxious he was to call her his, even if only in his own head.

"No, I'd rather start that immediately." She smiled up at him. "I don't want to wait any longer than I already have if I don't have to."

Her expression was so earnest, so eager, that his heart skipped a beat, so he kissed her. She welcomed it, allowing him to deepen the kiss. It was slow and sweet, agonizingly so, as they focused on getting to know each other in a new way. Despite the languid pace, the kiss was intense, and Draco felt his heart pound and his blood rush. When he found himself wanting more, he knew it was time to end the kiss.

Only, he didn't want to, and she didn't seem in a hurry, either. So he gave himself over to it for a bit longer, shutting his mind down and allowing himself to simply exist and feel—her tongue dancing with his, her lips as they moved over his, her hand now fisted in his jumper, pulling him closer. His hands wandered into the softness of her curls, and he lightly ran his fingernails over the skin at the base of her neck. He felt her shiver at the touch and grinned against her lips.

Eventually, he had to stop before things went too far, and he gradually slowed the kiss, pulling back until he finally pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

She sighed and leaned into him again. "So… Are we officially dating?"

Draco chuckled. _"Unofficially."_

"Right. It'll be easy enough, we can find plenty to do in the Muggle world. All I meant was that, if your divorce goes through before the end of the school year, we'd need to wait to make it public. I'd prefer to have the summer out of the public eye, let Scorpius have time to get used to it. I'll need to change some things about next year; I'll probably remove myself from teaching so there's no risk of being accused of favoritism. And then—"

"You don't need to solve everything right now, you know."

She gave him a sly grin. "Oh I'm not, only telling you. You aren't the only one who's been thinking about this a lot. I would venture to guess that I've thought about it much more than you have."

"Too right, I'm sure." Draco's thoughts drifted to images of he and Scorpius with Hermione: on walks around the grounds of the Manor, out shopping in Diagon Alley, cozy nights by the fire. A thought he'd shoved to the back of his mind jumped to the forefront, however, and he felt nervous once again. There was one more important, non-negotiable thing to discuss.

He cleared his throat and shifted a bit, introducing a little bit of space between them. She would need it to absorb what he had to say. "Um, Hermione? There's... one thing more. It might be a deal breaker, so hear me out."

She sat up a little straighter, her expression curious. "I'm listening."

Draco pressed his hands into his thighs as he gathered himself. "It's... about Scorpius. Sort of. But... Oh, there's nothing for it. Astoria wanted to get pregnant immediately in order to fulfill that part of the marriage contract. It took longer than she liked to conceive, and once that was accomplished, she made it clear she had very little interest in me and none in doing it again. After Scorpius was born, I fell madly in love with him, and I wanted more children. I never asked or mentioned it to Astoria—except once, when I had too much to drink at dinner one night. She flat out refused, said she had done her duty, and would never even entertain the idea."

"She sounds so selfish!" Hermione seemed shocked at her outburst and covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry. I believe that should be a decision made together."

He snorted. "It was, in a way. Only one child was promised, and one child was delivered. I never dreamed I'd want more until I held Scorpius. Looking back, I'm relieved we never had other children, but..." Now he looked at her, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his life, about to share one of his deepest desires. "I do want more. Children, I mean. You deserve to know that."

Hermione laughed and she let out a relieved breath. "Oh, Draco, you scared me for a moment. But thank you for telling me that. I assumed you wanted more children; you're so good with Scorpius, being a father seems so natural for you. I'm not at all put off by that. Watching you with him... Well, let's just say that I've thought about it long and hard, and I'm not averse to the idea in the least."

He kissed her so fast his head nearly spun, and he felt such immense relief and joy that it was all he could do not to Apparate them to his bedroom so they could get started. Which was, of course, getting quite ahead of things.

She responded just as eagerly, and soon they were snogging again. Things progressed quickly, and before he realized it, he'd pressed her down to the bench and was trying to position himself above her—but the slats didn't provide great support, so he ended up growling more in frustration than enjoyment.

After a few minutes, he drew back and sat up, breathing hard. Merlin, he had never kissed a woman quite like this before, and it was by far better than anything he'd ever felt in his life—that year or so of shagging anyone who would let him included.

"I suppose a park bench isn't the optimal location for anything more than snogging." She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled at him. "It's okay. It's probably getting late."

Draco nodded and checked his watch. "Yes, I should get home. I'm sure my mother will have all manner of questions. She asked if there was someone else, and I hedged a bit, saying I had no one waiting for me. That was true at the time, but—"

Hermione pushed up into a seated position and sat beside him. "Now it's not. Because I am most definitely waiting for you." She cocked her head slightly and grinned, her eyes bright. "Actually, you _did_ have someone waiting for you. You just didn't know it."

Draco stood and held out his hand, which she took. He threaded his fingers with hers and they started walking toward the alley from which they had Apparated so many times before.

"To summarize, we will begin seeing each other immediately, but we won't tell anyone until after my divorce is final or the summer ends, whichever comes first."

"And you will talk to Scorpius however you deem best. Oh!" She swung toward him slightly as she stepped. "Will you wait on that until summer at least? It's only a little over a month away. Early June."

"Of course." They reached the alley and, when no one was paying attention, slipped down and hurried behind the dumpster. As they waited, watching for when the coast was clear, Draco chuckled. "I thought about kissing you here once."

"Oh! I know exactly when you mean. I desperately wanted you to, and I was a little miffed that you didn't."

Draco smirked and pivoted off his shoulder, stepping in front of her and resting his hands on either side of her head. "Like this?"

She swallowed and dipped her head slightly, her voice breathy when she spoke. "Something very much like this, yes."

He quirked his lips and lowered his head, stopping mere inches from her lips. "Permission to amend the summary?

"Granted." The tiny puff of air from her whispered word ghosted across his lips.

"I can kiss you whenever I want."

"Please do." She surprised him by rising on her toes to meet his waiting lips, her hands winding around his neck as she pulled him in for a final kiss of the night.

He withdrew one hand from the wall and sunk it into her hair, tilting her head up for better access. She arched into him and he pressed her into the wall, relishing the feel of every dip and curve against his chest. They snogged until they were breathless, until things started really heating up, and he couldn't possibly stand another second without touching her more.

He ended the kiss, both of them heavy-lidded and out of breath.

"Do you think it's normal for us to act like this?" she asked, her cheeks flushed.

Draco forced himself to put some distance between them, every cell in his body screaming to do the opposite. "I really don't know. I've never… uh, I've not really done the dating thing before. Not counting the experiments during school. That was just hormones."

She smirked and brushed some of the fringe from his eyes. "Well, at this rate, it will be some kind of miracle if we manage to last until you're divorced."

He chuckled, almost deciding that it wouldn't be any harm to sleep together before he was divorced, but that wasn't his rational mind talking. He'd decided firmly that they'd need to wait because he wanted to conclude his marriage the way he'd carried through it.

"But I've waited years… what's a few more months?" She stepped away just a little, enough to show that she respected his wishes and would do her part to honor them.

Draco nodded with a heavy sigh. "It's going to be much harder for me, you know. You've had years of practice."

"I have every faith in you, Draco." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow when you bring Scorpius to school."

"Good night, Hermione."

She waved and Disapparated. Draco stared at the space she'd just occupied, feeling like he was floating.

There would be obstacles to overcome: his divorce, his parents, her friends, Scorpius. They'd have to navigate all of it while keeping their relationship a secret from the world. It would be one of the most difficult and trying experiences of his life—and Draco couldn't wait.

**ooo**

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE:** Just the epilogue remains! I can't believe this story is almost complete! Thank you to everyone who has followed along and left me notes—I love them all and I'm so appreciative!


	11. Impossible is Possible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I apologize for this being late! Christmas things prevented me from being able to post it until now. Chapter title from "Tonight, Tonight" by Smashing Pumpkins.
> 
>   
> 

* * *

**4.26.12**

When Draco woke up, he felt something warm pressing against his side. It was a small something, and it was exerting an uncomfortable amount of pressure right where his left kidney resided. When he tried to shift away from the object, another joined it and both pushed painfully into his side. Draco opened his eyes and saw Scorpius lying in his bed, sideways, his head near the far edge and his feet against Draco's middle.

"Score." Draco tried to nudge his son awake, but he was out cold. He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. With a yawn, he stretched and patted his hair down, then blinked as he looked around the room until his eyes landed on a note stuck to his mirror.

It read: 26 April.

He grinned as his brain lurched into gear. It was Astoria's birthday, and they had a big day ahead of them.

"Score." Draco shook his son's leg gently at first, then with a little more force. "Wake up."

Scorpius's eyes slowly opened, and when they met Draco's gaze, he smiled sleepily. "Mum's birthday."

"Yes. Exactly. And you've got school, so let's get up and get moving, shall we?"

"Way ahead of you." Scorpius bounded out of bed, pulling the sheet along behind him as he made his way back to his room.

Draco shook his head as he watched his son leave. Things between them had been really good over the last year. Scorpius had been somewhat upset about the divorce at first, but it hadn't lasted long—after all, he'd known his parents weren't all that happy together. Draco had found out that Scorpius had hoped that they'd work things out, but when he and Astoria had sat Scorpius down to talk, they explained why it was a good thing for everyone in the family.

The divorce had been finalized by the first of July, and then Draco had introduced Hermione to Scorpius as his girlfriend. That had come as a shock, but since he loved 'Miss Granger,' he'd gotten used to it pretty quick.

Hermione had come over with the drill and batteries, and together they'd built the tree fort. It had been a very fun but exhausting day, and Hermione ended up staying for dinner. Scorpius had asked her to read to him, which she'd ended up doing for over an hour.

Draco and Scorpius had bonded, being the only two 'men' in the house. They talked over every decision, from what to have for dinner, to when to invite Hermione over again, to where they should all go for a vacation that summer.

Draco was truly happier than he'd ever been, happier than he'd ever thought possible.

Five minutes after Draco got out of the shower, Scorpius came into his room ready for school. "Time for breakfast, Daddy. We don't want to be late. You know the Headmistress gets cross when we're late."

Draco chuckled. "She does, doesn't she?"

"Is that because she wants time to kiss you?" Scorpius screwed up his face as though the idea revolted him.

"I think that might have something to do with it." Draco ruffled Scorpius's hair. "Come on. Let's not keep her waiting."

**ooo**

Hermione's office was located off the Welcoming Room of the school, where the main fireplace stood. There was also a teacher's lounge and a reception area, all centered around the fireplace. It was truly a welcoming room. Since all the parents had to escort their children to school, it was a main hub of activity, especially at the beginning and end of each day.

As soon as they were through the fireplace, Scorpius said, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and ran off to his classroom.

Draco saw Hermione standing in the room, speaking to one of the other parents. She briefly glanced at him upon his arrival, and he saw her posture relax very slightly. He made his way to her slowly, standing to the side until she finished her conversation.

When Hermione was alone, he went to her and kissed her. "Morning, Granger."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him warmly. "Good morning. I was wondering if you'd get here on time."

"Scorpius and I had a few last minute things to get ready for tonight. Lost track of time." He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "You'll be there, right? At seven?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss such an important occasion." She waved to another arriving student and her mother.

"Great." He slid his hand down her bare arm, twining his fingers with hers as he leaned down to kiss her more soundly. She let him for a few seconds, then pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him away.

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" She arched an eyebrow, smiling at a father dropping off his twins.

"I do, naturally." Draco sighed. "But you know it doesn't really matter if I'm on time; it's not like they can fire me. Well," he chuckled, "not again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. You're very important. Now go on, I need to speak to Mr. Johnston. I'll see you tonight!" She gave him a bright smile, then started after the father she'd mentioned.

Draco watched her go, admiring the sway of her hips and the fit of her trousers. He liked seeing her first thing in the morning, before she put on her school robes. It gave him something to think about throughout the day when he got bored reading reports or listening to presentations. When she was out of sight, he Disapparated.

**ooo**

Malfoy Industries had undergone a total facelift over the last year. The building was the same, but almost everything inside had been redone. Matilda was still there, and she smiled broadly as he walked past her desk, grabbing the daily paper and his mail on the way to his office.

Long gone was the infamous desk; so, too, was every other piece of furniture that had been in the room. Draco simply hadn't been able to abide the suspicion that Theo and Astoria had availed themselves of his office more than the one time, so he'd had every single inch renovated.

Lucius had returned to England, under disguise and in the dead of night, but it hadn't been as soon as Draco had anticipated. Lucius had waited until he had an iron-clad case against Theo, who, as it turned out, had been siphoning funds from the company for years. He was currently in Azkaban serving the first of a ten-year sentence. Lucius had personally ousted all members of the board who had actively sided with Theo and allowed Draco to replace them with whomever he wished. Draco's first choice had been Percy Weasley, whom Draco knew to be both meticulous and loyal to a fault. Plus, he was Pansy's husband, and she was practically family.

When Astoria found out that Theo had only been using her to get information on Draco and the company, she'd been devastated. But she'd held her head high and walked away with what dignity she had left. Draco had even felt a little sorry for her because she found herself without a home, without any source of income—other than the amount agreed upon in their divorce papers—and without any hope for either. She'd quickly gone through some changes that, Draco thought, were for the best.

Draco still didn't love his work, but he had done a lot of introspective searching to find what he wanted to do, and then he used Malfoy Industries to allow him to branch out into those areas: Potions, Quidditch, and Astronomy. He'd also invested in George Weasley's shop, much to his father's chagrin, and that had become a source of great amusement.

He still felt a quickening of his pulse whenever he walked down the hallway to his office at the beginning of his day, a residual memory that would probably be with him for a long time. But his office was now so different that all it took was one peek inside to relieve the anxiety he felt.

As it was Astoria's birthday, he hadn't scheduled anything big. For lunch, he'd be grabbing food from the café he and Hermione called 'theirs,' taking it to her, and eating with her in the lunchroom at the school. There was no other place he'd rather be. The date would always be special to them, as they'd gone through a lot together on the 26th of April, but it was still Astoria's birthday. He and Hermione had agreed that, for Scorpius's sake, they needed to focus on that rather than themselves. They'd officially started unofficially dating on the twenty-seventh, anyway.

Draco sat at his desk and took out his journal, the one in which he'd written about his experience. He was almost finished with it after spending little pockets of free time over the last year adding things he remembered or analyses of his thoughts. He went to the very last page, which was empty, and rubbed his hand over it. It was completely blank, but he knew what needed to go there.

Draco chose his ink color carefully. It felt like a silly thing to do, but he wanted everything to be perfect. In the end, he went with a deep, shimmery blue. Dipping his quill in the inkwell, he took a deep breath and wrote the final sentence of his memoir.

He had just finished cleaning his quill when there was a knock at the door. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Come in, Matilda." He blew lightly on the ink, made sure it was dry, then closed the journal and shrank it, placing it carefully in his shirt pocket.

Matilda, who had yet to recover after failing to keep Draco from entering his office the year before, was now rather nervous around him. "Your afternoon appointment is here, Sir. Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Matilda." He smiled warmly at her and stood to welcome Percy. He'd need to make more of an effort to set his assistant at ease.

**ooo**

"Daddy, how do I look?"

Draco, who was in the middle of putting on his favorite cufflinks, turned around to see Scorpius standing just inside his door. He was wearing his favorite dress clothes: sharp black trousers, a light blue Oxford, and a very smart sport jacket. He also wore black socks and carried his nicest shoes in his hand.

Draco walked over to his son, pretending to inspect him carefully. He lifted Scorpius's arms and checked under them, tapped the back of his knees, then tugged on the lapels of the jacket.

"I'm sorry, but where did my little boy go? You're practically a young man. Soon I'll be fending off owls from families wishing to introduce you to their daughters."

Scorpio made a face. "Ew, Daddy. No. I'm still right here. I'm only eight."

Draco got down on his knees and pulled a tie from his pocket that matched his own, only smaller: black silk with small golden snitches sewn onto it.

Scorpius's eyes lit up. "Are we going to match?"

"Our ties, at least." It was a real one, not a clip on, so Draco tied it on for Scorpius. He felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat as he thought about his son and how much they had gone through together over the last year. "All set, Score. How are you feeling?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Fine. I've got Mum's present ready."

Draco stood and went back to the mirror to put his tie on. "Good."

Scorpios followed him, hands in his pockets, looking far too big for Draco; his eyes kept threatening to mist over, and he had to blink rapidly to prevent it from happening.

"Are you ready, Daddy?" In the mirror, their eyes met.

Draco paused in his with the tie. "I am. How about you?"

Scorpio nodded importantly. "Ready. Let's do this. We're Malfoys, after all."

"Too right." Draco grinned widely.

There was a knock behind them, and Draco and Scorpius both turned to see who it was. Draco's nerves immediately fired and his heart started racing at the sight of Hermione framed in the doorway. Her dress was a floor-length, fluttering, rose gold fitted gown with delicate straps over her shoulders. She'd spent time with her hair and it flowed around her face in large, soft curls. A necklace he'd given her at the half-year mark of their relationship hung round her neck, a single diamond on a gold chain.

"Am I interrupting?" She took a tentative step inside his room, her eyes landing on Scorpius.

"No, Daddy and I were just talking, but we're done now." Scorpius turned to Draco. "I'm going to put my shoes on. I'll see you at dinner.'

Draco nodded solemnly, his throat suddenly dry upon being alone with Hermione.

She waited until Scorpius was well on his way, then shut the door and glided across the room to Draco. "Hello, there."

Draco swallowed hard as Hermione put her hands around his neck, smiling up at him as though he were her entire world. He slid his hands onto her back, startled to feel her skin and not the dress. "Hi."

Then he kissed her—carefully, so that he didn't rumple her dress or mess up her hair. It was the kind of torturous kiss that promised much more to come, torturous because there were hours before the promise could be fulfilled.

He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth and she squeaked, pulling back with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Careful, Draco. I'm not going to spend another thirty minutes getting back into this dress, if you catch my meaning. Besides, we'd be late for dinner, and that would be a huge embarrassment, wouldn't it?"

He let out a low groan, resting his forehead against hers.

"Are you ready to go down? I think people will be showing up soon."

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Dinner tonight was in celebration of Astoria's birthday, and it would be the first time this particular group of people gathered. He hoped it wouldn't be the last, even though it spun on its head every notion about family he'd grown up with.

Hermione rested her hand on his cheek and he smiled, rotating slightly to kiss her palm.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy, and tonight is going to be incredible. You've worked hard for this, and you deserve every happiness."

He placed his hand over hers for a moment, then drew both of their hands down and squeezed hers briefly before releasing it. "I'm ready. Just let me put on my jacket."

Hermione retrieved it from where it hung, removed it from the hanger, and helped him into the garment. He turned toward her and she effortlessly adjusted his collar while he made sure his sleeves and cufflinks were in order.

"How do I look?"

She bit her lip. "Hmm, well, to be honest, looking at you makes me want to just… take it all off, piece by piece. But alas, there isn't time."

He smirked and kissed her briefly. "You don't want to know my thoughts about you in that dress. I'm not sure you'd be rid of the blush before the last guest leaves."

"Is that so?" She stepped toward him, then stopped and sighed. "Do you think… tonight…"

Draco knew what she meant and he grinned. "Yes. Tonight. I've put Kippy in charge of Scorpius once he's in bed."

Orchestrating times for he and Hermione to be alone had proven to be something of a challenge. Since Scorpius primarily lived with Draco and his room was just down the hall, they'd had to be considerate of his feelings. Draco wanted to be available to his son at all times, especially in the beginning when the divorce was brand new and then immediately followed by introducing Hermione to him as his girlfriend. Draco couldn't very well spend the night away from the Manor easily, though they'd managed it a few times. Usually, when Hermione spent an extended evening with him, she always left before Scorpius woke up.

Though, it had happened a few times that Scorpius had stumbled in, half-asleep, and not even really noticed Hermione in his father's bed. She'd had to sneak away in the middle of the night, Draco waving apologetically.

She'd never once complained, though.

"Good." She gave him one of his favorite smiles. "Because I'm fairly certain I'm going to need help getting this dress off later." With that, she spun on her heel and headed toward the door.

Draco zeroed in on her arse, breathtaking in the tight sleeve of her dress. Then he followed her, swallowing hard and trying to think of something uninteresting like ingredients in a wart-removal potion.

They walked hand-in-hand to Scorpius's room and collected him, then together the three of them headed for the parlor, where at least some of their guests were sure to be waiting.

Forty minutes later, everyone was seated at the table in the dining room, nearing the end of the meal. Draco, who'd finished before anyone, sat back to enjoy the sounds of his guests swirling around him. Astoria sat across from him at the long table, in the place where she'd always sat as his wife. But it wasn't strange; she was still the mother of his only child.

She was pregnant, though, almost six months, and beside her sat her boyfriend, Crawford Rosier. After her relationship with Theo fell apart, Astoria had done some intense soul-searching. She'd gone away to spend time with her sister, and something had happened while she was away that caused her to change quite a bit. She'd come back, apologized to Draco for everything, then started dating Crawford two months later.

It had been quite a scandal of its own when she'd announced her pregnancy—pure-blood witches didn't get pregnant unless they were married—but she hadn't cared. Crawford had two other children already, but he'd divorced his wife shortly after their second child was born. After meeting Astoria, he'd fallen hard and fast, though they had no plans to marry any time soon. Draco smiled at the memory of Astoria telling him that when she married again, it would be on her terms, her way, and nobody was going to have a single say in it—except the person she married, of course.

Draco had felt a slight twinge of anger when she'd revealed the pregnancy because of how vehemently she'd refused to even consider another child with him, but it had passed quickly. He was thankful they hadn't had more, and he was desperate to begin that sort of life with Hermione.

Crawford's two children were there as well. Marcy was five and Maxwell was seven, and Scorpius loved having other children to play with. He'd taken quite a liking to Maxwell, who was brash and defensive but could be really fun once he lowered the walls he'd built after his parents' divorce. It was good for him to spend time with another magical child whose family had split, and Draco could see his walls slowly crumbling over time. Marcy had taken a liking to Hermione, and she always wanted to sit beside her.

Crawford's wife, Tinnette, who had gone through a rough patch but had turned her life around within the last two years, now wanted to be a part of her childrens' lives, and so she was also at the table with her brand-new husband, Tim.

The nine of them didn't comprise a traditional family by any means, but as Draco looked at every person in turn, he knew he wouldn't change a single thing. They'd formed a tight-knit group, and everyone cared about everyone else. They were all invested in the wellbeing of one another, and it made for some very interesting conversations.

Most importantly, Hermione was by his side, and if he had his way, she'd never leave. They'd have children of their own—he couldn't wait for Scorpius to be a big brother—and they'd fill the house with laughter and games and fun for as long as possible.

Hermione caught his eye and winked before turning back to something Marcy had said.

When Astoria set her fork down, Scorpius sat up straight in his chair. "Daddy! It's time!"

Draco hopped up and went to the side room where Astoria's cake was, ready for the candles to be lit. He waved his hand and the candles sprung to life. He carried the cake back into the dining room, and everyone oohed and ahhed.

"I made it myself!" Scorpius exclaimed, hopping in his seat.

Draco gave him a look, and Scorpius grinned sheepishly.

"Well, Miss Granger helped me."

Everyone laughed.

Astoria blew out her candles and when Tinnette asked her what she'd wished for, she smiled and met Draco's gaze. "I have everything I could want." Then Astoria kissed Crawford, who began slicing the cake.

**ooo**

"Here you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Draco looked over his shoulder to find Hermione leaning against the door of his balcony. He'd just put Scorpius to bed and given Kippy strict instructions that he and Hermione were not to be disturbed unless it was an absolute emergency. And as much as he wanted to get to the spicier elements of his evening, there was something more pressing on his mind.

Hermione smiled and walked over to him, first resting her hands on his shoulders, then sliding them down his chest as she leaned over to kiss him. He kissed her back but didn't let things progress, instead stopping the kiss. "Would you sit with me?"

"Of course." Her discerning eyes noticed that he had something on his mind.

She sat beside him on a settee Charmed to be impervious to any and all weather despite not being an outdoor piece of furniture. "Everything all right? I thought tonight was a tremendous success. Astoria seemed very happy."

Draco smiled. "Yes, I'm glad. I know a year ago, she'd never have imagined this being her life today, but I agree that she's happy."

Hermione took his hand in hers, resting them in the space between them. "And you?"

"Me?" His smile faded into something deeper, more intense, as he looked into her eyes. "I never imagined I could be this happy. I didn't know it existed, and if I had, I'd never have bothered dreaming for it, thinking it couldn't possibly be for me. _You_ couldn't possibly be for me."

She didn't speak, only brushed her thumb over the back of his hand.

After a moment, Draco retracted his hand, slipping it into his jacket, which he'd removed when he'd first gone out into the balcony. Inside one of the interior pockets was his journal. "I'm nearly done with this."

He held it up so she could see and her eyes went wide. She'd seen the thin, black book numerous times over the past year but had never looked inside, though he knew she was curious.

"That's wonderful, Draco! What do you want to do with it?"

He thumbed through it, pausing near the end pages. "I'm not sure. I've thought a lot about the tale you found, wondering if I should turn it into something like that. But it seems awfully long for a fairy tale, and I didn't experience some great, moral awakening. In fact, for a long time, I've considered my tale to be a love story."

"A love story?"

He nodded, bracing himself for what would come next. "And part of why I haven't done anything with it yet is because I don't know how it ends. I realized that the only person who can finish this is you. I want you to read the end of it. And help me with the last line." At her wide-eyed, somewhat awed nod, he opened to the page before the last, held it to her, and pointed to the last paragraph. "Here."

Hermione took the book, glanced at the entire page, then settled herself to read.

"'For the last year, I've wondered what the purpose in my journey was, wondered what I was meant to find. My son had wished me to be happy, and I am, but how did my trip into my past connect to my happiness?

"'The answer may seem obvious, but I might just as easily have taken a different path that first day, when I landed in my thirteen-year-old body. Why did I seek _her_ out? Why didn't I go to someone— _anyone_ —else? She made the least sense, yet in my heart, I knew beyond a doubt that she would be the one to help me.

"'And she did. She didn't rescue me from time traveling, she didn't set me on a path to enlightenment or self-actualization. All she did was become my friend when I needed one.

"'So this is a love story that is finally coming to an end—a love story that's only just beginning. The hero has traveled through time, faced his own past, learned from his son, and fallen in love with a witch he doesn't deserve. Only one thing remains.'" She stopped reading, having come to the end of the page.

"Go on. Turn it."

With trembling fingers, Hermione complied, her eyes landing on the dark blue shimmery text he'd added earlier that day.

"'The hero, who'd never thought himself anything like one, who turned out to be the hero in his own story, asked her to marry him. And so, one year to the day after his life-changing journey began, she said—"

He'd written two words beneath the final line, two options that held his heart in the balance, and he watched Hermione lightly trace the first one, the one that would complete his journey and truly let him begin his life. His heart pounded as he waited for her response, hopeful but refusing to let that hope run wild.

"Draco, you've been _my_ hero for the last year as I've watched you grow and struggle and fight for your family. You are an incredible father, a good and noble man, and it would be my honor to be your wife. Yes, absolutely, I will marry you!" She threw herself into his arms, unconcerned for the dress that had been the focus of so much of his attention all evening.

He held her in his arms, knowing deep down in his heart that he was finally, truly, home.

**\- THE END -**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is! The end of my story for the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest! I had a wonderful time writing this and posting it, and I'm so pleased with how well it's been received. Thank you to everyone who has followed along! And, again, I'm sorry for the last posting! Endless thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione, for the fabulous work on this and all the beautiful graphics (you can see those on AO3).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story is COMPLETE and will be updated weekly. There are eleven chapters, already written. Updates will be on Thursdays. 
> 
> Come find my on Tumblr! I'm [floorcoaster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/floorcoaster) over there!


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